


Palace Without Time

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), F/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Ridiculously Slow Burn, Skin Hunger, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-10-22 06:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Setting up New Asgard on Earth takes up a lot of Thor's time, so he asks old friends to check in on Loki. Natasha was always up for a challenge.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> We're going to pretend that the cutscene at the end of Ragnarok didn't immediately lead to Infinity War, okay? [My friend Jessy](http://diana-godkiller.tumblr.com) wanted a blackfrost skin hunger fic, and I had a mighty need to write the pairing again after finishing up an angsty genfic. 
> 
> I'm going to post this more or less as I write chapters. I started this in January, and I'm in the middle of chapter three. So it'll be a surprise for all of us. :)

The ship, large as it was, still felt overcrowded with all of the Asgardian refugees. Moving through space from the remains of a shattered Asgard gave everyone far too much time to think and grieve for everyone and everything they'd lost. Thor was Allfather now, and had no idea what to do, how to recreate a society, how to keep them all safe. Everyone he would have turned to for information or aid was dead now, and most of his other friends that might have known were on Earth.

Earth. Yes. Midgard would be a good place to go to. Odin had been to Norway, and had seemed at peace there. Perhaps that country would be willing to give them amnesty, and its culture would be similar enough to Asgard to help the people feel a little more at ease on a new realm. The commoners had never left Asgard before, and wouldn't have dreamed of ever leaving their homeland. Most were farmers, crafters, miners and laborers of various kinds, so the war brought to Asgard was new to them.

Loki didn't seem terribly nervous to be headed to Earth, but Thor didn't know his mind anymore. If he'd ever known it, given how alone and miserable he'd felt. but there was really nowhere else to go, so any argument against it would have to be ignored out of necessity.

"Will you truly be comfortable on Midgard?" Thor asked him anxiously.

"I have skill enough to exist unseen if I have to," Loki said stiffly, sidestepping Thor's reach. "It's a simple enough spell."

Thor frowned at Loki. They'd had a hug earlier, but Loki had grown distant again. "You shouldn't hide who you are."

"Shouldn't I?" Loki asked in sharp tones. "I've hardly made a good impression on that realm, and it seems even their sorry excuses of sorcerers find me objectionable."

"You are of Asgard," Thor said quietly. "You helped to save our people, and that's what matters. You're my brother, Loki."

He gave Thor a pitying look. "You wish that to be true so much."

"It _is_ true, and always will be. If you can't accept brother, would you accept the title of shield brother? We fought side by side against Hela. We've trained and played together since childhood. Surely you have _some_ fond memories of that time."

The corner of Loki's mouth twitched. "You push very hard to have me stay, when you were so eager to part ways on Sakaar."

"It was what you wanted."

"You don't know what I want."

That gave Thor pause. "Perhaps I don't," he finally acknowledged. "So what do you want?"

Loki gave Thor a mirthless smile. "I'll let you know if it's anything you could actually give me."

Thor's pained expression gave Loki no joy, that was clear, and he reached out for Loki. He grasped his arm tightly, wishing that he could somehow give Loki even a fraction of the confidence he usually felt for the future. "Even if you doubt my ability to give you what you need," he said earnestly, "ask me anyway. I might be able to help you."

"I'll keep it in mind."

***

Thor and the Asgardians were welcomed to Earth, and the Scandinavian countries all set aside land that they could live on. They didn't quite hand over the land when asked, exactly, but it was more like a shared territory that they could live in to the far north of each country. The capital of New Asgard was in Norway, to honor Odin, and otherwise was a sprawling expanse that easily absorbed the new people. The Sokovian Accord-sanctioned Avengers were glad to see Thor return and of course volunteered to help in any way that they could to help them get back on their feet. Loki changed his appearance as soon as they showed up, varying the details on a daily basis so that Thor didn't even know who he was anymore.

Tony gleefully worked with the Asgardian builders and had Pepper help Thor and Heimdall maneuver treaties with the Scandinavian countries to secure the citizenship and land rights for the Asgardians. Their Asgardian identity would be recognized and accepted by Norway, Sweden and Finland, and effectively guaranteed citizenship in those countries. Heimdall learned quickly from Pepper how Midgardian politics and treaties worked. He was a natural at figuring out borders, security measures, and how to calculate taxes for each country. Valkyrie easily took over security measures for New Asgard, and was usually sober for meetings with the various Scandinavian dignitaries.

Most Asgardians chose to resume their former lives as best as they could, creating farms, shops, and work spaces as it had been for them on Asgard. With Loki apparently missing, Thor relied on the Avengers more and more during the entire process. He asked Heimdall to find Loki, but he refused to do so. "He asked for peace," Heimdall explained when Thor sputtered and demanded that he find Loki anyway. "It seemed a reasonable request at the time, and he has done nothing untoward since then." Heimdall paused. "He wasn't a bad king in your absence, or in Odin's. Not a good one, but not a bad one, either. Isolationist, perhaps, but he was not one to harm the people in any way."

Frowning, Thor looked at Heimdall. "Which means what?"

"Which means I will leave him be," the man answered with his usual peaceful demeanor. "He asked for peace, and will give him what measure of it that I can."

But he hadn't asked Thor for that, possibly thinking he could never give it to him. As much as it pained him to think about it, Thor had to concede the point. He had made the remark on Sakaar about parting ways but hadn't really _wanted_ to leave Loki behind. Some part of him would forever love the prickly man, no matter what he called himself. Thor would always call him brother, would always try to come to his aid if he asked for it. Or even if he didn't. It would be difficult to ignore him, to stop trying to push his way into Loki's life. But if that was what he wanted, if that's what he _needed,_ Thor would try it.

Of course, that didn't mean that he could ask _others_ to check in on him.

Valkyrie was right out, as she and Loki had gotten into the most precarious of truces fighting Hela but otherwise didn't seem to actually like each other. Most of the other Asgardians would never cross Loki, even if they were aware that he had impersonated Odin for years. The average Asgardian hadn't suffered under his care, so they would likely not disturb whatever peace he may have wanted to find on Midgard. They were also far too busy rebuilding their lives, and Thor wouldn't want this task to disrupt that. Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Vision and Rhodey had taken on different roles in teaching the Asgardians about Midgardian ways, and it wouldn't be right to ask them to look in on Loki when they possibly didn't harbor anything but hate toward him. He hadn't known what happened to Natasha, Steve or Wanda, and was somewhat hesitant to ask the others about them when Tony seemed pained at the mention of them.

Pepper was the one to pass along a contact number along with a discreet "I never gave you this, and don't discuss the Accords." Thor had picked up a lot of nuance in the Midgardian political climate by then, and knew what she was talking about. He approached Natasha himself during a lull in talks about treaties and taxes owed to the different Scandinavian countries. It was a headache he'd never wanted, one that Loki could have handled with great finesse without even trying. Outlining the current situation was easy, for all that they hadn't been especially close before he had left Midgard, and he was relieved at the ready acceptance to meeting with him in the middle of the talks.

She looked different when he saw her again, blonde hair and brows so pale that they were nearly invisible. Thor almost didn't recognize her, but no one else would've had the code to enter the suite he was staying in. She gave him a sympathetic smile when he grimaced in her direction and dropped into a chair as if he'd lost all of his energy.

"It's not easy being a good leader," she commented. "But you make it work."

"My thanks, Natasha," he sighed heavily. "When I was younger, I thought being the Allfather was fun and games. Respect and honor. I forgot about the duty to my people. I forgot that there are different kinds of battles, different kinds of work."

"You catch on pretty quick, at least."

He grinned at her. "It's not my element, as they say on this world. But we all make do."

"That we definitely do."

Pushing himself to stand, he approached her with arms open for a hug. Her features lit up from the distant and almost wary expression she'd had, and Thor closed his eyes and let himself just enjoy the feel of her in his arms. He'd felt so disconnected, so lost, and the simple joy of holding a friend close made him feel better.

"I've missed the friendship," Thor admitted, eyes damp with unshed tears. "Most of the friends I had growing up are all dead. My best friend is still alive, but he's busy and grieving, too. We're all so lost here, but we're trying so hard..."

Natasha pulled him back in for another tight hug. "I'm here. Steve would be too, if you wanted his help. And Wanda. We're fugitives now, but we'll find a way to make it work."

"Perhaps I can work with your governments..."

She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "We tried. But when no one really wants to hear the truth of the matter, and they're playing to their own agendas..."

Thor's heart went out to her. Tony had admitted that mistakes were made on all sides, that she had warned him about everything falling apart, but no one was able to back down and compromise when it came down to it. "Our pride was our fall," Tony said heavily, hand in his pocket and eyes downcast. "And at this point, sorry just doesn't cut it."

"Well, I don't have one." He pulled away after a moment and grimaced again. "No, I can't even say that, because I have a favor to ask of you."

The bitterness was gone from her laughter this time, and she patted his chest fondly. "A favor for a friend is very different from a government agency's agenda."

"Oh, I'm not sure about this one," Thor began uncertainly. The story about the fall of Asgard and the horror of Ragnarok poured out of him in fits and starts, and he didn't have it in him to cover it all with a gloss of humor for her benefit this time. She was easy to talk to, so much so that he wondered why he never really reached out to her before. Natasha understood his conflict and guilt, understood the way emotional ties could wound and heal at once.

She hugged him again, giving him a smile. "Don't worry about him, Thor. I'll track him down and let you know how he's doing."

"You're sure? It's not too much to ask?"

Thor's relief at her confident smile was sharp. "Of course it's not too much to ask. We're staying under the UN's radar, but that doesn't mean we won't still talk to our friends or help however we can. We're just technically vigilantes."

"You're going to enjoy thumbing your nose at authority, aren't you?" Thor teased.

Her grin was answer enough.

***

Natasha found Loki right away. Though he had blonde curls and his usual blue eyes, he was dressed in casual clothes as if he was an ordinary Asgardian taking a break. He sat on the ground in the far north, staring out at the sea. His back was hunched a little, a weary and defeated cast to his posture. He didn't even move at her approach.

"It's a very peaceful view," she commented, approaching him. She was dressed in black and hunter's green, her usual colors now to fade into the background. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her vest, she watched as his shoulders curled in on himself a little bit more. "But you don't seem to be at peace here."

"What do you want?" he asked, not even turning around to face her.

"There are people worried about you."

"Thor, you mean. He could never leave well enough alone."

At the sound of his flat, emotionless tone of voice, Natasha walked forward slowly, so that he could turn and leave if he chose to. Loki continued to sit in place, knees pulled to his chest, eyes locked on the water.

"Probably not," Natasha said quietly. "You've known him longest."

"We don't truly know each other."

"Did you ever?" she asked pointedly.

Now he looked up, and she could see that his gaze was haunted before it shuttered into blankness. "Perhaps when children. Thor is so very transparent."

She nodded in agreement, then gestured with her head toward the ground beside him. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked, her voice neutral. "I've been walking for a while this morning, and I could use a bit of rest at the moment." She didn't try to sound overly friendly or condescending, just as if they had once been colleagues.

Loki glanced at her warily, then turned back toward the water. "I suppose."

"How have you been settling in?"

"I fail to see why it matters to you."

"It doesn't," Natasha admitted, shrugging. He looked at her in surprise, lips parted and brows furrowed. "But it matters to other people—"

 _"Thor,"_ he hissed.

"—and in the grand scheme of things, it matters to the world at large." That seemed to give him pause, and she gave him an assessing glance. "You're not bent on world domination this time around, at least."

The grip on his knees tightened. "It was a foolhardy plan, was it not?"

"You're only saying that because it didn't work, aren't you?"

He pressed his lips together unhappily, eyes searching her face. "What do you actually want, then? You're not here to capture me or torture me in some way."

"You expected me to?"

Loki's gaze slid past her, over the crashing waves. "Everyone else has, in some fashion or other. Why are you any different?"

"What do you remember of what you learned about me the last time you were here?"

His gaze snapped back at her. "You are an assassin. You can gain the trust and information from almost anyone, and nothing is beyond your skill."

"Clint thinks very highly of me," she replied dryly, lips quirking in the corners.

He was mirroring her smile in an almost unconscious way. "There is such grace in your fighting, and he was quite impressed with the level of training you had, yes." He paused, considering her for a long moment. "I'm sorry I insulted you and your intelligence."

"Thank you," she said quietly, inclining her head. "I use that a lot. Most people underestimate me." She gave him a half shrug. "Useful for a spy."

"And now? You come here without a mask or any artifice. What do you want?"

"You wouldn't know about the current political climate here on earth, but I'm not held in as much esteem as I used to be. It's nice to do a favor for a friend and not be on the run for a while."

Startled, Loki actually let go of his knees and turned in her direction. "We're not friends."

"I meant Thor."

His expression shuttered and he started to turn away from her. Natasha reached out to grasp his arm to keep him in place, and Loki sucked in a pained breath. "Why don't you tell him that you're lonely?" At his sputtered protests, she shook her head. "It doesn't matter what happened in the past, you know. He still considers you his brother. He worries about you, but he's trying to give you space. He thought it's what you wanted."

Loki didn't shake off her touch. "It was," he admitted.

Natasha gave him a level look. "We're both being uncomfortably honest here, aren't we?"

"I suppose," he began slowly.

"It's hard to do that, when you have the lives we've had," she continued, as if his wary expression didn't bother her. "Not too many people would understand it."

"Probably not," he said grudgingly when her silence indicated he should answer her.

"On the run, it's not like I could visit on a reliable schedule. Or talk."

"You wish to speak with me."

"You need someone to talk to, don't you?" She flashed him a wan smile. "Trust me, I know the feeling well. Someone like Thor wouldn't. He's too..." She made a vague gesture that made him laugh with only a faint trace of bitterness. "He's hopeful," Natasha said finally. "Even with all of his loss, all the destruction. He still holds out hope."

"And it seems as though I've none, is that it?"

"You have a more pragmatic view, I'd say," she replied.

"And you? What do you get out of it?"

"It's hard, living from day to day without being seen. To wear a different mask every day, pretend to be someone else..." She tilted her head at him and lofted an eyebrow. "Don't you think so, Loki?"

He stared at her for a moment. "Do you assume that of me, or are you talking of yourself?"

"Am I wrong?"

Loki looked away across the water. "I do well with solitude," he said stiffly. "I have done it for quite some time, and I know how to deal with such quiet. As I am sure you are. Thor is building a kingdom here with a people, and I have built up a palace of my own. Outside of time and space, and without need of such contact."

"Sounds lonely," Natasha murmured.

"I just said I do well with solitude," Loki told her stiffly.

"Doing well with something you're given doesn't mean it's what you want."

He didn't turn back to her. "You presume much."

"You're not telling me I'm wrong."

Loki didn't answer, so Natasha reached out and grasped his hand tightly. He sucked in a pained breath and looked at her, lips parted and eyes wide. For a moment he almost seemed scared, lonely and weighted down by his past.

"I think there are others out there who could understand what you're going through. Not Thor, but someone. What do you want me to tell Thor?"

He licked his lips, still appearing nervous. "You're not afraid of me."

"If you were going to kill me, you would've done it already. But I think you only do it for very specific reasons, and right now you don't have one. Right now, I don't think you have any reason to do anything, and it's left you feeling lost. You're one that needs a purpose or a plan, and you need to be needed." He started to tug his hand away, but she held on tight. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll let go."

"There's no role here for me, so it's hardly a surprise for you to guess at," he snapped, clearly irritated. He tugged his arm away again, but she still held on tight. "Unhand me."

Natasha smiled at him, almost feral. "I think you need a challenge, and no one here is going to challenge you." Her grip tightened before letting go, and she watched as he traced the marks her fingers left behind. Getting up, she waited until Loki looked up at her. "Come find me when you're done wallowing in self-pity and want to do more than sit and stare at waves."

"And if that's all I wanted to do?"

"I didn't take you for a coward."

Loki's eyes flashed with anger and he shot to his feet. She didn't back down, but he didn't do much more than glare at her. "You should be afraid of me."

She looked at him evenly. "Make me."

That clearly startled him, and she laughed out loud, a sound of honest amusement. "Come on, Loki," she said finally. "You're better than this. You were a challenge to crack." He glowered at her, and she reached out to grasp the same hand she had grabbed before. As he had done, she gently traced the imprint of her fingers, which still stood out in stark relief against his too pale skin. "This is a new start for everyone, Loki. Don't waste it on regrets."

"Is that what you think I've been doing?" he asked, a slight rasp to his voice.

"When I was in your place, I did."

He looked at her in interest. "He never knew that. Your friend," he clarified hastily. "He didn't think you regretted in that time. He thought your accounting was merely a matter of debts to be repaid, nothing more."

"Shows you didn't get a chance to dig deeper into his head, that's all," she said with a careless shrug. When she dropped his hand, there was a fleeting look of disappointment on his face. "I understand if it's hard to restart. But don't waste it."

"There could be terrible danger in the future," he murmured.

"There always is," she agreed. "But you still need to live your life anyway."

Loki paused, pulling his thoughts together. She thought he looked almost frightened, painfully out of place as an ordinary mortal. "Perhaps I may wish to speak with you after all," he said finally. Reaching up into the air, he pulled a token out of a pocket dimension. It looked more like carved jade with a silver rune in its center. "If you like," he said, offering it out to her. His expression was more hopeful, and a flicker of joy seemed to run across his features when she actually took it.

Natasha filed it all away as well as the instructions on how to use the communication token. It seemed more like an interesting and complicated start to something.

***  
***


	2. Coming Together

"Everything go okay with Thor?" Steve asked when Natasha returned to the hotel room they were all sharing. She and Wanda had one double bed, he and Sam had the other. Sam and Wanda were out at one of the museums playing tourist, and were going to meet a contact regarding a remaining Hydra cell that hadn't gone dark. All the major science labs were destroyed, but that didn't mean they weren't still trying to regroup.

"He has his hands full with his new country," Natasha said, shooting him a wry smile, sitting across from him on her side of her double bed. She let her gaze slide appreciatively over his frame as he shuffled items in one of his duffel bags, looking for a clean shirt. "We're going to have to do laundry soon," she reminded him.

"They definitely don't talk about those parts of being on the run in books or movies," he laughed, shaking his head. He scratched his chin a bit and gave up the search. "You really think a beard will change how I look enough?"

Natasha pointed to her hair. "It doesn't have to be as drastic a change, but it messes with the facial recognition software and people won't do a double take."

"They usually don't if I'm not wearing the uniform."

"It's going to take more than just blacking out the star to fool people, Steve."

He grimaced at her. "Okay, fine. Whatever." He plopped down on the double bed across from her. "If this doesn't pan out..."

"We'll find something else to do that will satisfy that need for justice you have," Natasha teased, eyes lighting up.

"Think we could help Thor?" he asked, sounding entirely too hopeful.

"There's far too much scrutiny on the Asgardians right now." Natasha paused thoughtfully, then tilted her head slightly. "Unless you don't mind magic. Loki's there, and he has been doing magic to change his appearance and hide from Thor, pretty much."

"Wait, what's this about Loki?" he asked, confused.

"When Thor wanted to talk and have me visit, he also asked me to look for Loki. He kinda went on a walkabout when they arrived, for all he knew. And even his best friend Heimdall, that usually knows where _everyone_ is, won't tell him."

"So he asked you."

"So he asked me."

Steve frowned at her. "And?"

"He's not exactly a homicidal maniac," Natasha began thoughtfully. "He seemed... lost. Like maybe the Loki we met in New York wasn't really him, or a lot of shit happened to him that Thor doesn't know about. Maybe both. I think he's lonely."

"You're kidding. All of the survivors that he apparently saved..."

"And not a one that would want the real him, right?" Natasha pointed out.

"His own fault."

She nodded. "Not disagreeing with you. I think he changed his appearance so he wouldn't have to deal with the fallout. Or get roped into helping Thor actually rule."

"Isn't that what he wanted?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Maybe in 2012. God only knows what's happened to him since then." Natasha shrugged. "But he looked very ordinary and was isolated from the other Asgardian refugees. When I was out in the cold before—"

"You're not the same as him," Steve said sharply, leaning forward toward her.

Natasha gave him a fond smile. "I know. But in some ways, we're not so different. So I understand how this feels, and I think he's trying to figure out who he is and what he wants now that Asgard is out of play."

Steve leaned back and looked at her. "You want to help him."

"I had Clint to help me through. I wasn't a very good person before he came along," she told him honestly. Natasha paused thoughtfully. "If Loki has some kind of guidance, he can be better than I was."

He shot her a wry smile. "And you say you're a pessimist."

She laughed along with him. "Think the others would want to be involved?"

"Of course!" Steve said, rising to his feet. He helped her to hers and hugged her tight. Natasha melted into the embrace, returning it with just as much force. "You said it before. We're the four musketeers, right?"

"Your new barbershop quartet. Sort of."

Kissing the top of her head fondly, Steve laughed. "You and Sam at least have a good singing voice. Wanda, not so much."

"Give her time and practice, I'm sure it'll get better."

Steve just laughed, and they maintained the hug for a while, still. Though they were still on the run with no end in sight, at least they had each other.

***

It was easy to sneak into New Asgard, especially with the quinjet on stealth mode. Natasha hadn't known if her talisman would work on multiple people or just her, and preferred to wait until the entire crew was present in the area. They waited until they had walked a distance away from the masked quinjet before Natasha took out the talisman. She ran her thumb across the silver rune in the exact way that Loki had instructed her, and a portal opened in front of her. It wasn't the same seascape that she had found him at before, but a front yard of a dilapidated shack that was overgrown with tall weeds and grasses. The sagging front porch had splintered and cracked wooden slats, and the door hung uneasily within the warped frame.

Natasha looked back at Steve, Sam and Wanda. "Um. Not exactly what I was expecting. Do you want to come with me still, or—"

"You are _not_ going there alone," Sam insisted.

She stood within the portal in case it was set to close after her. The others rushed through, and the portal collapsed in on itself after Natasha stepped through. Looking around, there was no obvious place for Loki to be, so Natasha headed straight through the weeds and grass to the front door, stepping gingerly to be sure her feet didn't go through the porch. It felt far more solid than it looked, though the weeds felt real enough, and she opened the door.

Inside the house, it was dark but comfortable looking, no sign of rot or decay anywhere. A circle of tile was present just inside the front door, and beyond it was plush, deep carpet in a dark color that looked almost black in the shadows. The couch looked velvety soft, and there were pillows and blankets everywhere in the room. Loki was curled up on the couch, beneath three blankets with his head on one pillow, a look of sheer terror on his face in the split second before he recognized Natasha's shape, backlit by the weak sunlight behind her.

"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked, voice low as she stayed in place, hands clearly visible and empty.

"I have not been feeling well," Loki said, voice hoarse and raspy. "I had not expected your return," he added after a moment when she didn't say anything.

"Life on the run isn't easy. I brought the others, if you don't mind."

"Others?" he asked in concern, pushing himself up to an elbow. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark in the house at the moment, and saw how much thinner he had gotten since she had last seen him. It had been less than a week, so it must have been a serious illness.

"Steve, Sam, and Wanda."

He fell back into his curled up position beneath the blankets. "Ah. Your compatriots missing from the prison," he murmured. He gave her a grim smile on seeing her surprise. "You said you were on the run. I went into mortal settlements to discover what you meant."

"And?" she prompted when he fell silent.

Loki smiled in weary amusement. "Governments on this world remain so very petty, do they not? Yet you fight so hard to maintain them. Perhaps it would have been best to let me take over as I wished to do years ago."

Natasha lofted an eyebrow at him. "You don't look up to the task right now."

He let out a gusty sigh. "An overtaxing."

"Must be serious if you're actually admitting it."

Outside the house, Steve called out "Everything okay over there?"

Without looking over her shoulder, Natasha answered "Loki's sick, guys. Probably hasn't eaten in days." She shrugged when Loki glared at her. "You don't look like you have."

The others approached quickly, and Sam was the one to search for the lights overhead. They flickered to life, only half of the bulbs in the light fixture overhead present. It brightened the dim interior, and it was even more clear how feverish and ill Loki looked. Wanda approached, hands open in front of her, wisps of red magic snaking around her fingers. "Doesn't seem to be a curse or a spell," she commented.

Loki looked at her with interest. "Chaos magic on a backwater planet such as this? That's new."

"Present from the mind stone," Steve said when Wanda looked confused.

He glowered at the soldier, but the effect wasn't nearly as fearsome as he likely wanted it to be because he was so ill. Wanda twisted her fingers together in a circular motion, and then fanned them out. "No, not a curse or spell." She looked at Loki when her hands dropped to her sides, a concerned expression on her face. "You're empty. I can't sense magic at all. It's like you barely have any life force at all."

"As I told her, an overtaxing."

"Doing what, man?" Sam asked, brows furrowed in concern. "What could take up so much magic around here? It's deserted."

"That's rather the point," Loki told him dryly.

"We can find the quinjet, right?" Steve asked Sam and Natasha with a worried frown. "I think we have some provisions we can share..."

"What are you on about?" Loki asked wearily.

"Evil demigod or not, you're sick, dehydrated, hungry, and helpless," Steve said, lips compressed together unhappily. "There aren't any outstanding warrants for your arrest or capture right now, if that's what you're worried about. But even if there were, I couldn't just leave you here. That's practically signing your death warrant."

"Isn't that what the people called for, years ago?" Loki asked wearily.

"Enough, that's not getting any of us anywhere," Natasha said in a tone that brooked no argument. She sat down on the edge of the couch near Loki's knees and put her hand along his sweaty head. "Do Asgardians get fevers like humans do?" she asked.

He pushed her hand away irritably. "I don't need you here."

"Well, here we are." Natasha shot him a falsely bright smile. "Do gooders one and all, and we can't stand to see someone sick and helpless."

Loki grumbled. "Hardly helpless, just not willing to blast you into oblivion."

Natasha rolled her eyes at him and let her gaze snap back to Steve, Sam and Wanda. "I can look after him if you want to get our stuff."

"I don't think I can do a portal," Wanda said, a trifle uncertain. "We'll have to walk."

"You aren't staying here!" Loki cried, pushing himself up again. The breath was knocked out of him when Natasha pushed on his chest so that he landed on the couch in his curled up position again. "I don't want you here."

Running her hand along his temple, Natasha took note of his slight shiver. "We're not going to hurt you, Loki. And believe it or not, we don't want anything from you."

He looked at her curiously, then at the others, before finally deciding that they were being honest about their intentions. "Why did you come here?"

"To talk," Natasha murmured. "And ask about how your spells work. Maybe Wanda could help mask us the way you mask yourself."

"Chaos magic is not exactly like the _seiðr,_ so it may not work the same."

"That's not a no," Wanda pointed out, the corner of her mouth quirking up a bit. "So perhaps I can still try."

Sam shot Natasha an amused look, which made her realize that she was _petting_ Loki, smoothing his hair down along his scalp. She shrugged at him, then shooed the others away with her free hand. Steve only looked at her in concern, but Loki was shivering beneath the blankets and hardly looked about to harm Natasha. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he promised.

Natasha nodded, and kept up the steady petting motion. She watched as Wanda was the last to leave, carefully closing the door behind her. There was a flash of red outside, possibly a sealing or warding spell, and then the silence settled in throughout the room.

Until Loki snored. Natasha huffed with silent laughter, looking down at him. He wasn't quite helpless, but he wasn't the harsh conqueror he had been posing as in 2012. It would be interesting to see who he was at this point, and how much of Thor's anxiety about him was even accurate. He had likely been through a lot that Thor didn't know much about, which weighed him down right now as he twisted within his own thoughts. Natasha didn't know or want to know what they were, but she did feel something like pity for him. Thor had been rather thorough in talking about how Loki had been treated on Asgard after his return from Earth, and the supposition that solitary confinement had only twisted him further.

He was lonely and alone, some of it his own doing. Loki clearly had been determined to be the better monster of legends, and it had caught up with him badly. It was easy to forget how formidable he could actually be when like this, but Natasha knew better than to be fooled by appearances. Loki was sick, but if he felt backed into a corner, she didn't doubt that he would raze this entire place to the ground with whatever scraps of magic he could scrounge together. He might have overtaxed himself, but if magic was anything like video games, it would gradually rebuild with rest and time.

Even thinking of video games made Natasha sigh softly. Clint had taken a plea deal so he would be able to be with his family again. She couldn't begrudge him that, and every once in a while sent Morse code messages for him to pass along to Laura and the children. That didn't quite stop her from missing him, but she wouldn't visit him or try calling while he was under surveillance. The various government agencies likely were waiting to pounce on anything that might have been their comrades contacting them, so even the Morse code was few and far between. Wanda had tried magical transports a few times, but that hadn't worked well so far. Gifts they had picked out for the kids had been mangled by the magic.

Natasha scratched Loki's scalp lightly, and he sighed a little in his sleep. Looking down at his face, it was no longer drawn or wary. Whatever he had endured thus far, it hadn't left all of his dreams tainted with nightmares. She continued stroking his hair gently, lost in her own tangled memories. They weren't the same, as Steve had pointed out, but in some ways, they really _weren't_ different. And perhaps she knew how to reach him after all.

***

Loki was tied up tight, limbs pinned against his sides and weights pressed against his back and chest. He was blindfolded, or perhaps that was only his own hair wound around his eyes, obscuring his vision. It was soft, nothing tight around his head, not as he'd had blindfolds done in the past.

Ha, that made it sound as if he had voluntarily asked to be bound and blindfolded, or gagged and stripped of his defenses. Loki was many things, but willfully stupid was not one of them. He could be vicious and capricious, for certain, but he was aware of his surroundings and his own power levels. Still, this sojourn on Midgard was not entirely of his choosing either. There were few places that Asgardians could go to; while many other worlds might welcome them, most of them wouldn't be able to protect the Asgardians. Midgard likely would have forgotten about the worst of his crimes, or assumed that he had paid for them appropriately elsewhere. This world didn't have the same concept of a weregild.

But he was bound and blinded, and perhaps their memories were not so short after all.

It was hot, stifling and difficult to breathe through. Perhaps it was a legacy of his damned Jotnar heritage, but either way, the heat was unbearable. He was glad that Thor had spoken with the Scandinavian countries for a home, as they didn't get so blasted hot as the equator countries would have, but they still had summers. Travel would still expose him to high heat and humidity, and he could almost feel how sluggish it made his blood.

Perhaps Midgardians were interested in revenge and torture after all. Perhaps it had all been a ruse to trick Thor so that his guard would be down and Loki could be captured. Thor wouldn't allow such a thing, but he thought so highly of these fools. He'd never stop to check that what they were saying was true. He'd never think that they would deceive him. Maybe he doubted Loki by now, but he'd had centuries to learn that lesson. Loki was surprised he'd even learned it on Sakaar, but the pain he'd felt had been unmistakable.

This primitive backwater world was like every other one, then. He wasn't safe here, no matter that he had been lulled into it, and it had been utter stupidity to completely deplete his energies scrying for the future of New Asgard and the fate of Asgard's ashes. Loki had done this to himself, and had no one else to blame.

He froze when he heard a soft snuffling sound. His first instinct was to lash out and flail, even though he knew his magic had been depleted badly and his entire body felt weakened. He wouldn't go down without a fight, no matter what it cost him. Loki remained still, listening for what the sound might be.

It sounded like breathing. Close, uncomfortably close, but not moving.

There was nothing to see when Loki tried opening his eyes, something still obscuring his vision, his arms still pinned tightly to his sides. Whoever was holding him captive didn't seem to want him dead right away. Perhaps the breathing was that of another victim caught in their clutches, also awaiting misery and death.

A footstep in the distance and the scrape of a chair on the floor caught his attention next. Loki did his best to listen, but the best he could do was discern voices talking. Perhaps two, there seemed to be that many different cadences to the speech. So there were two jailers and two prisoners in this place. Even odds, even in his weakened state—

"...don't want to do that again," a soft accented voice said, drifting closer in Loki's direction. It was a woman, different cadence than the two previous voices he had heard. Which meant now there were three captors with two prisoners, and it might not be so easy to escape.

"If you don't practice, you'll lose whatever control you had over your powers," one of the other voices said as it followed the woman out. That voice sounded familiar, too familiar, and—

"No one's saying you have to warp reality just to see Vis, okay?" another voice said. The three people were moving past where Loki was lying, as if they either didn't know he was there or if they simply didn't care. "But there are probably a lot more things that you can do we never thought about. This portal thing could be useful for you."

"But it feels _wrong,"_ the woman said, and Loki could hear the utter terror in her voice.

"Then don't do _that,"_ the first man replied. Loki could almost hear the shrug that he had to be making. "But practice what does feel natural. Just because we're on the run doesn't mean that you lose whatever skill you have."

The woman sighed, and it sounded like she had plopped down to sit somewhere in the same general room that Loki was in. The phrase _on the run_ sounded familiar, but Loki was too exhausted and too panicked to recall why. "Should we wake them?"

"He's sick, and she's been running herself ragged trying to bust up whatever Hydra nests we could find, or leads for things to do." That was the second voice. "Nah, I think they both need their sleep." There was a low chuckle. "Should I find it disturbing that they actually kind of look cute like that?"

A snort from the first voice. "Seriously?"

"What? They're both deadly and dangerous, but they look almost cuddly while asleep."

The woman laughed. "Cuddly?"

"Well, not so sharp and deadly. They both do the things with knives, you know."

"We could always work on your hand to hand," the first voice said.

"I'd say something about you and training, but I think it's all been said already," the second man laughed. It sounded as though he sat down as well.

It came back to Loki quickly. The house he'd found abandoned that he had done a complete overhaul with, but he'd exhausted himself before installing all of the trip line spells and traps that he would have rather put in. He had been more worn out by the past several months than he had thought, but he had managed to cast all the permanency spells on the belongings he had conjured. It had cost him more than he thought it would, but he doubted that it was because Midgard had protections in place to block these kinds of magicks. It was him. Something in him was wrong, twisted, warped somehow, and he would have to heal. In the meantime, he was little better than the mortals around him.

That meant this was Natasha and her friends here. He had given her a token that he had created on the spot in a fit of longing for more than just isolation. Loki wasn't sure what had possessed him to do it, but perhaps it was for the best.

Shifting himself slightly, he realized that it wasn't actual bonds holding him in place. He had been lying on the couch, which was pressed against his back. Which meant Natasha was asleep pressed up against his front, if those voices were to be believed. It was uncomfortable to have someone pressed so close when he was feeling so vulnerable.

At the same time, the pressure was almost soothing. He was too warm, and his arms were mostly pinned in place, which was adding to his feeling of vulnerability. Slowly, he tried to shift his left arm off of his side and toward his front. Loki made sure not to make any noise, and he could feel the shape of Natasha lying on her side along the couch with him. She made a snuffling noise, and that was certainly the same sound he had heard earlier. Snaking his hand carefully up toward his face, he pushed at the thing covering his face.

It was her hair. Dyed blonde and a little coarser than it likely usually was as a result of that, but it was Natasha's hair that had covered his face and triggered all of the panic. He felt silly now, that he should have recognized the feel of _hair,_ for Yggdrasil's sake, but he had cut his own soon after disappearing into New Asgard. The thought of being on display for all of the Asgardian and Midgardian survivors had led to a different kind of panic, and he hadn't stopped to question why he had hidden himself so completely like this.

Pushing the hair aside, Loki slowly cracked his eyes open. It was the living room in the abandoned cottage he'd found and built up further. Nothing had been altered, and Natasha had laid down beside him on top of his blankets, which is why he had been pinned down so tightly. Seeing her hair, he could recall how she had stroked his, how soothing and comforting it had felt, and how the touch had lulled him to sleep.

She hadn't been afraid of him. She knew precisely what he was capable of, and wasn't afraid. And perhaps that was why he'd really wanted to hide now. All of Asgard knew the terrible truth of him now, and even calling himself their savior wouldn't ease that. They'd stared at him and whispered on the ship, avoiding him and seeming more frightened than they had before. He hadn't been that terrible a ruler, surely. No one had been harmed on Asgard, and the people's livelihoods progressed unharmed. That had to count for something.

Loki closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. These mortals weren't going to harm him while they thought he was ill, and even before that hadn't seemed interested in harming him. Natasha wasn't afraid of him, and the other three didn't seem to be, either. He wouldn't be so alone, then, and they were just as interested in hiding away from the world as he was. None of them would reveal the location of this cottage, and he wasn't interested in revealing their location, either. It was something of a stalemate, then, which meant that his secret location would be safe. He wouldn't have to worry about angry Asgardians or Midgardians trying to hunt him down while he was weak and helpless.

And he had missed people. There were times he preferred to be alone, but he'd been far too alone for far too long. He'd been alone in his thoughts since falling from Asgard into the Void, and it had never really gotten better. Even in the crowds on Sakaar he had never really felt connected to anyone else. Most of his time on Sakaar was worth forgetting, in any case.

Sliding Natasha's hair through his fingers, Loki wondered what it would be like to actually get to know someone without fearing reprisals. He'd known that once upon a time, before he'd known what kind of creature he actually was. It could be that he recalled it fondly only because of the amount of time since it had happened. Nostalgia would make just about anything seem wonderful, so he couldn't even trust his own memory on that front. He wanted to know what it was like to trust so wholly as Thor did, even if he didn't think he had it in him.

These were heroes, though. If there was anyone on Midgard potentially trustworthy, these fools would be it. They would rather "save" him than turn him in to authorities, especially because they held so closely to their own morals.

This would be an interesting experiment. Satisfied at least that he was safe for now, Loki closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

***  
***


	3. Coming To An Understanding

While the apparent fever had passed, Loki was visibly weakened when he woke up. There were hollows beneath his eyes, and he seemed drawn and exhausted. Movement was slow and almost painful to watch, and he tended to grasp the back of chairs or the couch in a white knuckled grip to maintain his balance. His hair was shorter than it used to be, and it was evident without any of his glamours that he had hacked it off himself in a fit of emotion because of how ragged the ends were in the back.

Natasha felt better after the nap, which had lasted far longer than it should have because the others didn't wake her up when they got back. She couldn't fault them for that, they'd been running on empty for such a long time that they all snagged whatever sleep they could whenever it was safe to do so. If anything, she was more surprised by how comfortable she had been snuggled close to Loki's feverish frame.

The others hadn't explored the cottage while Loki was asleep, clearly respecting his privacy and waiting for his permission. Loki glowered at Sam when he'd mentioned that fact, but sank into a chair when his knees were about to buckle. "I am not _helpless,"_ Loki snarled at Sam when he'd started to get up to help him.

"You're sick. I was a VA counselor and before that a paratrooper medic. So excuse me if those healer instincts still kick in."

Loki actually winced at Sam's sharp tone. "A healer."

Sam nodded at him. "And a fighter." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "Should it come to that. But it won't, will it?"

"You're not going to harm me. Not when you point out that you're a healer. There's a code for healers, no matter what realm they serve."

"Still not a yes or no."

Letting out a ragged sigh. "I will not attack for no reason."

"I suppose that's the best that I'm going to get."

He gave Sam a hollow eyed stare. "Much exists in the universe that you gladly don't know about. Pray that it remains that way."

"So what exactly happened to you?" Sam frowned at him. "Overtaxing, you called it. Wanda said you were practically empty of magic and life force."

"Magical energies come from somewhere," Loki said quietly, aware of Natasha seated on the couch listening closely. Steve and Wanda were in the kitchen, and sound carried all too well in this cottage. "This location is isolated and unknown, which is what I had wanted." He rubbed his jaw tiredly and let his gaze slip past Sam to the piles of pillows and blankets still strewn about on the floor. "It's still not up to standards, but most of the security spells are in place."

"So what builds up this energy?" Sam asked in concern. "Probably more than just chicken soup and sleep."

"Rest and nutrients do help."

"So... magic flu?" Sam asked, brows furrowed. "Huh. Interesting."

"Are you that afraid the people of Earth are out to kill you?" Natasha asked from the couch, her chin perched on the back of it. "Or is it that the Asgardians don't welcome you?"

"I'd rather not test either theory."

The silence stretched for an uncomfortable beat, and Natasha finally nodded. "Thank you for being honest with us."

"How do you know I'm not lying to you?" Loki asked, lip curling in a sneer. "I could be simply playing a role to lull you into complacency."

"You're not faking sick," she declared.

"And we've all got that feeling of when someone's bullshitting us," Sam said with a shrug. "Since my alarm bells aren't going off, I'm assuming you're too sick to plot much. I'm sure all bets are off when you're back at 100%."

Loki frowned at them both. "You're taking this rather well. I thought I was genuinely hated here. I didn't think I would be welcome."

"You probably wouldn't be," Sam agreed.

"But you're also in hiding, same as we are," Natasha commented. "A lot's changed since the Battle of New York. I doubt you're anyone's favorite, particularly if they lost people, but there's been a lot of strange things happening all over the world. You're not the biggest worry around anymore. There are ghost assassins, rogue agents, a shadow conspiracy that refuses to die, and a group of people that desperately want to think they can control every contingency."

He shot her a mirthless smile. "It sounds very similar to the state of the world I had seen before."

"It's probably worse," Sam shrugged, pushing himself off of the wall. "Think you could go for some soup?" At Loki's exasperated eye roll, he chuckled. "Some of the spirit's back, at least. Can you get to the kitchen on your own steam or do you need help?"

Loki pushed himself up to stand, swaying slightly. "I can walk," he replied in a haughty tone. The image was ruined by the wobble in his step and the way he lurched forward to grasp the wall, but he shrugged off Sam's hands when he reached out to help. "I'm not helpless," he repeated, teeth grit tightly.

"Not helpless, but not in top shape either," Sam told him, voice droll. He scooped up Loki's arm to help him balance. "C'mon, then. Let's get you into the kitchen for food before you fall and smack your head into the wall. I have a feeling we'd have a hole in the wall if that happened, you're so hard headed."

Natasha snickered as she rose up to her knees on the couch. Loki glared at her, but the effect was weakened by how much he had to lean into Sam.

"I get it," Sam was continuing as they walked slowly into the kitchen. "You got your pride and whatever else going on. The big bad, right? The thing that goes bump in the night." Loki flinched at that, but Sam missed it as he maneuvered the debilitated god into a chair near Steve and Wanda, whose conversation halted abruptly. "But if I can push you around, you sure as hell ain't ready for a fight."

"Look at it this way," Steve said quickly when Loki opened his mouth. "We help you get better, and protect the property until you do. In return, you come up with some kind of regimen to help train Wanda and teach her those disguising spells you know. I think that's fair."

"That's hardly a righteous way to use magic. I didn't think you had it in you."

Steve's expression hardened. "I'm going to do the right thing, no matter what. And if that means that I have to tear apart a corrupt government, then so be it."

Appearing impressed, Loki flashed him a wan smile. "Perhaps there is also more to you than I'd thought, Captain."

"Don't get fooled by those dumb blond looks and good ol' smile," Sam teased, smirking at Steve as Wanda giggled. "He's as bullheaded as they come. People don't see the smarts until it's too late and they're wondering where it came from."

Natasha had come to the kitchen doorway at that point, a fond smile on her face as she looked over the kitchen assembly. "It's not all my bad influence, promise."

Steve snorted. "Those damn biographies in the fifties got everything wrong..."

"Language," Natasha said, a mocking lilt to the word.

Pointing at her with a look that was teasing and stern at once, Steve shook his head. "That stopped being funny years ago, Natasha."

"Nah, your sense of humor is still stuck in the forties."

Loki looked at them all, then let his gaze rest on Wanda. She was clearly the newest member of the group, without as much knowledge about their in jokes. By the expression on her face, this sort of banter was a common occurrence. The girl had the aura of chaos magic coming off of her in waves, and if she wasn't careful, it could do serious damage. He'd just gone through the trouble of expending his energies on this place, he wasn't willing to lose it all and start again somewhere else.

"Fine. You lot all go away." He managed to resist the urge to shoo them off or rub his arms for warmth, but it was a near thing. Looking at Wanda's curious expression, he offered her a wan smile. "I'll talk with your chaos mage and see what we can do."

The beatific smile on her face shouldn't have warmed him as much as it did.

***

Holding a mug of tea within her hands, Natasha watched Loki carefully walk through the backyard of the house. It wasn't as overgrown as it had looked from the front, likely the result of a few illusion spells. His steps were halting, almost as though he should have been using a cane but was refusing to even consider it. His ankles wobbled slightly, and as much as it would probably hurt his feelings, Natasha winced with every step. She put her mug down and rushed forward gracefully, then inserted herself next to him and tugged one of his arms around her shoulders. Loki startled and nearly fell sideways; he had been far too focused on keeping himself upright, and hadn't been as aware of his surroundings as he should have been.

"You looked like you were about to fall."

"It was you that tripped me..."

"Tell yourself that if you want," Natasha said blandly, grasping his hand tightly so he wouldn't try to tug it away and tip himself over. "You've been trying to pace, and it's painful to watch."

"Then don't watch."

Natasha snorted. "Not much else to do. There's watching Steve work out, watching Sam play solitaire on his phone, watching Wanda read those notes she made, or working out myself. Even I call it quits after two or three hours a day, so then there's you."

Loki snorted. "I didn't invite you."

"You didn't send us away, either." Her thumb rubbed against the back of his hand, and his breath hitched. "Because being near others carries risk, but maybe rewards, too."

He glowered at her. "You presume much."

"You're not telling me that I'm wrong," she intoned, eyebrow lifted at him in droll amusement.

Making a discontented noise, Loki turned and looked away. "I was expecting to be alone here. I did not plan for random people showing up."

"You're the one that gave me that token."

"Perhaps I didn't think that you would use it."

"But you wouldn't have given it to me if you didn't think I might."

Loki didn't answer for a long time. "You're different. Not just in appearance, but in demeanor."

"I could say the same for you."

"Much has happened since New York."

Natasha nodded and continued to walk until the edge of the cleared property. "True. Which way were you walking?"

"I was testing the boundaries of the spells."

"How?"

He pressed his lips together. "It's difficult to explain it when you haven't the gift, but there is a sense of it. A presence I recognize, I suppose."

"What does it feel like?" Natasha asked, curious. Her thumb still absently rubbed along the back of Loki's hand, and he turned to look at her with a troubled look. "What?"

"Why do you care about magic? What meaning does it possibly have for you?"

"I'm not interested because I can cast or see it. I'm interested because I have no frame of reference for it. I want to know what you're talking about."

"Information for what? To someday take me down? To know how to best me?"

Natasha stopped walking abruptly, and Loki lurched in her grasp. He would have fallen if she hadn't been holding onto him, and he only just realized that her other arm was curled around his waist, giving him additional balance and support.

"We're not here to harm you. We were never interested in that for its own sake. Even back then, if you remember. You were held in a cell, yes. But nothing happened to ever hurt you."

Loki was silent for a moment, "Not physically."

"No, not physically," she agreed.

"But you had been too eager to know what I was thinking or feeling, the better to pass along information to your masters."

"Someone was pulling your strings then, weren't they?"

He looked away, chest heaving with his sudden intake of breath. "A lot had happened then," he temporized, not able to meet her gaze.

"For all of us."

"Are you sure you aren't here to harm me?"

"Yes, we're sure," Natasha huffed. "They say _I'm_ paranoid, but even I wouldn't ask that when we obviously stuck around to help you get better."

"It could be an elaborate plot."

"To what end, then?" she challenged. She turned slightly, so that they were facing each other, but he was hunched over and nearly falling over on top of her. Natasha was clearly stronger than he had expected, keeping him from tipping over. "Why heal you, just to harm you later?"

"Plenty do," he said quietly. "For many reasons. Pick one."

Natasha let out a disappointed breath. "Sometimes, it really is wanting to help someone else. Not everyone is out to get you."

"Enough are, with the life I've led. It's only a matter of time before it catches up with me," Loki muttered, then looked startled as if he hadn't meant to admit the truth.

"It's a lonely way to live," Natasha replied softly, not surprised in the least.

"But I live."

With her free hand, she reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "Don't push yourself so hard, and don't push us away. Life like that isn't worth living, trust me."

"That's why you went on the run together."

Natasha smiled at him. "It's a little less lonely that way, yes."

"Harder to hide all of you."

"Maybe, but we take turns looking out for one another. There are other opportunities to look into, and we keep each other safe. That's what you're missing."

"Or perhaps the likes of me just aren't meant to be safe."

"Now, that's just being melodramatic," Natasha told him with a smile. "Now, have you tested the boundaries out here enough? I can feel you trembling, so you'd better sit down before you collapse and can't get back up again."

Loki sucked in a breath and straightened his shoulders, but he overcorrected his balance and the breath whooshed right back out of him. "Very well," he said in a sullen tone.

Natasha maneuvered him to the back porch and then pushed him down into the seat that she had vacated to get to him. "Here," she said as she thrust her mug into his hands. "Tea. I'll make more for myself." At his dubious look, she rolled her eyes, took it back to take a sip, then shoved it back into his hands.

After disappearing into the house, she reappeared with a matching mug and tea of her own, the little tag hanging off of the bag dangling over the side. "Different cultures on earth do meditation to stay calm," she said, sitting down on the porch and looking out over the yard. It was a regular green lawn, and beyond what must have been the spelled borders, the land was overgrown and wild, looking as though someone could run through it and get lost. "It's something that you could probably stand to do, I think."

He snorted. "You don't know what I need."

"Probably not, but I do know what it's like living on the run. And living alone, jumping at shadows and sure that they're going to leap out and harm you. It's hard living like that, and the stress of it can be hard to live with."

"I don't think I need advice from you."

She turned and looked back at him with a bland expression. "Maybe not. But you do need me," she said quietly. "And the rest of us. Different reasons, different skills."

Glowering at her, he put the mug she gave him down on the table. It sounded empty, and Natasha managed not to smirk at him. "I don't need you."

"You'd be alone without us. And you're the kind of person that doesn't like being alone," she told him without inflection.

"I can be alone," he sneered.

"You don't like it," she returned, shrugging and then sipping at her tea. "Being able to tolerate it doesn't mean you like it. People aren't meant to be solitary. They need companionship. They need conversation. Touch." She shrugged again at his incredulous look. "It's documented here, in any case. Solitary confinement is considered torture on this planet."

Loki's eyes skipped away from hers, and he gripped the chair with a white knuckled grip. It looked like he was trying to push himself up to a standing position, but the way his arms shook, he probably couldn't even support his own weight. He didn't say anything to her, just stared out at the back lawn he had created, and took shallow breaths. Natasha remained silent, knowing the power of waiting, and sipped at her tea.

"Obviously, your little witch wants me to help her learn. What do you want?"

She gave him a sad look. "You wouldn't believe me, but nothing."

He watched her sip her tea with narrowed eyes. "You're right, I don't believe you."

"We already have what we need, a place to hide out a while without worrying about the Accords or Ross' underlings. I know that most of the people I care about are safe. I don't need anything else right now."

"So why stay with me?" he asked, voice guarded.

"I was like you years ago," she said quietly. "I had people help me through it. I guess I'm just paying it forward."

"The debt you owe your archer," he guessed.

She shot him a wry and sad smile. "Not exactly. Yes, he helped me. He's my best friend, but not the only one. This isn't that debt, exactly. But that I know how this goes, and it's easier if you don't have to go it alone."

"And you truly get nothing out of it," he asked with a dubious expression.

Getting up once she finished the last gulp of tea, Natasha smiled at him, then reached forward to cup his cheek in her hand. "Well," she murmured, seeing the way his eyes dilated slightly. She ran her thumb along his cheekbone, and then slid her hand down along the curve of his jaw. "We're both clever. I'm sure we'll think of something."

Natasha didn't have to turn back to look at him to know he was watching her every step.

***

Loki didn't understand altruism anymore. Once upon a time, it had been easy for him to be generous and giving, to feel optimistic and genuine with people. He had looked forward to lessons with his mother in magic, with the Einherjar for swordplay and tactics, with the myriad other tutors for all of the education that princes were expected to know. He had traveled throughout Asgard, had met with a number of the people when he had been but a boy, and hadn't felt as though he was in constant shadow. Thinking back on it, he wasn't sure when it first started to change, when the tendrils of resentment first started to grow. They hadn't always been there, even if it felt as though at this point that they must have been.

This helplessness was very new, very humbling, and very annoying. He refused to think about this as his new state, that he'd accidentally purged all of his magic in creating this place. There was so much of his past that he was refusing to think about, to be honest, so what was one more thing to ignore?

Wanda hovered in the doorway of the bedroom he had taken. It hadn't been altered yet, so the paint was peeling off of the walls, windows didn't quite fit the warped frame well enough, and the room was darker than usually was. The other two bedrooms were just as worn out as this one, and as far as he knew, Wanda and Natasha sharing one of them while Steve and Sam shared the other. He didn't want to deal with these mortals, didn't want to think on his weakness, and didn't understand why they would want to help him when there was no gain in return.

"Loki," Wanda said, uncertainty in her tone. "Are you well enough to talk about magic?"

He shot her a disinterested look. "It's just talk. That won't harm me."

"Not physically," she remarked. "But would it exhaust you to describe what you've learned?"

She was trying to be helpful, but this hesitancy only made him angry. "If you truly have magic, it's a gift that needs to be developed and used, not hidden away. Don't be frightened of yourself and what you're capable of."

"Easy for you to say," she remarked. "You've made it obvious that the harm others receive isn't of concern to you. I don't want to be seen like that. I don't want to hurt people. I'm trying to help them, but it's not working the way I thought it would."

"What did you think would happen?" he asked her flippantly, turning away from his warped window to face her in the doorway.

Red tendrils of power built up around her hands, and her eyes flashed with that same brilliant scarlet. Loki could feel the tension crackle around her, hair starting to lift off her shoulders as if on a breeze.

Loki couldn't help but grin at the sight of it. "Oh, you've power to spare. No wonder your spells frighten you so much."

The rising power abruptly dropped in her confusion. "What?"

"Well, what lessons have you had in control and siphoning energies?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

She merely blinked owlishly at him. "Everything I know, I figured out on my own. I was given this power, and left on my own."

He snorted and shook his head. "This kind of power? Can't be given. It can be unlocked, perhaps, or enhanced, but to give this amount of chaos power to a creature not able to carry it is a certain death sentence. It would rip a body apart if it can't be contained."

Wanda made a startled noise. "My brother and I were the only ones to survive the experiments," she whispered, eyes wide.

"And your brother's magic?"

For a long moment, she was uncomfortably silent, eyes suspiciously shining and her throat working uselessly. "He could run faster than the wind. But when saving the people of Sokovia, he couldn't outrun all of the bullets."

Her grief was a palpable thing, and for a moment Loki was aware of how easily he could wound her with it. But there was no joy in that, no sense of satisfaction. "So then he died a hero," he murmured instead. "And you are an Avenger. Heroism seems to run in your blood as much as the magic does."

Lips wobbling, she nodded slowly. "Our people had always been hunted, even before the Hydra agents found us and told us stories of revenge. My mother once said there was a gift in our family, but she never would talk of it. Then she died before she felt I was ready to tell of it."

"I wonder if she had magic of her own, then."

"If she did, I don't remember it. I was young when she died, and her magic didn't help her when the bombs fell in Sokovia."

"Unless you prepare," Loki began, a thread of disdain in his voice, "there are few spells that could prevent such a thing."

Wanda bit her lip, as if making a decision, then stepped further into his room. "Whatever talent I have, whatever this magic is, I want to use it properly. I don't want to hurt people, I don't want them dying because of my mistakes. So if there's a proper way to learn, I want to do it."

Loki could still sense the radiating power from her, and tried to reach out with his otherworldly magical sense. His own skill was still mostly absent, a gaping hole inside of him that made him want to wince and cower. He nodded at her thoughtfully, then patted the bed beside him. "We might as well start now."

***  
***


	4. Cost Counting

Sam had gone for paper, ink, and random books from the library that Loki had requested. Steve was doing a food run, which left Wanda and Natasha with Loki. He was still physically weak and couldn't seem to generate any magic, which seemed to increase his agitation. "I shouldn't be like this! I should have recovered by now!"

"Have you ever overextended yourself like this before?" Natasha asked, not in the least perturbed by his increasing anxiety.

"I should be back to myself again! This shouldn't be something for a Soul Forge, and there isn't even a Soul Forge to be found on this entire miserable realm!"

"We don't know how your magic works," she said reasonably, shrugging. "Or what the Soul Forge is, so there probably isn't anything similar."

"Start at the beginning, then. You went into the different kinds of magic on Asgard," Wanda interrupted before Loki could say something scathing. "But where does the magic even come from in the first place? Maybe then we can figure out how to help you."

He muttered something under his breath in a language they didn't understand but was likely very unflattering. His expression was a thunderous glower, but neither woman backed down or cowered in fear from it.

"Magic is life and willpower made manifest. It's a skill honed by those with the ability to sense it and use it." The words were spit out as if it pained him to admit such a thing. "So to have a life without the ability to generate magic—"

When he cut himself off, Natasha realized with startled clarity that he was afraid.

"But how do you generate it?" she asked, making sure her words didn't carry any emotional inflection that would possibly upset him. "Is it some kind of ritual or is it a natural process for you like breathing?"

Loki glared at her for a moment, and before he could answer, Wanda turned an earnest expression toward him. "Is it meditation? That's helped me control some of my power when I first got it."

Pressing his lips together, Loki appeared even more irritated by their ignorance. "There is no _ritual_ for magic. You have it or you don't, and right now, _I don't have it!"_

"If magic can be drained, it has to be replenished somehow," Natasha said reasonably. "I assume it must be like blood is replaced by marrow, right?"

He made a disgusted sound. "Reducing magic to medical comparisons," he muttered.

Wanda looked at him with an open and interested expression. "Is it, though? I don't know how I could otherwise develop magic if I didn't have it as a child. Not that I knew of it, really," she added thoughtfully. "I don't remember doing anything like this before, but the stone may have unlocked something in me?"

At her uncertain tone, Loki heaved a sigh and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "On Asgard, there is magic, or there is not. None have studied what sets them apart, because there was never a need to. And there is no use in studying _me_ even if you had the means to do so, because I am not truly Asgardian."

Natasha frowned at him. "Why not? You're from Asgard."

"Not born of that race," he muttered, not making eye contact. He kept his gaze on the floor, and kept rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I'm not—"

When he broke off abruptly, Wanda leaned in. "What is it?"

"Thor had said you were adopted."

Loki's laughter was bitter. "I suppose. Stolen as an infant, spelled to look this way and raised as if Asgardian even though I am not." He lifted his head to look at them. "You have no idea what any of this means."

"No," Wanda said as Natasha shook his head. "I assume there is some kind of negativity associated by that, judging by your reaction. But we're on Earth now, and Asgard is gone. Surely the people don't hold your birth against you?"

More bitter laughter. "Oh, there are plenty of other crimes they could hold against me."

"But do they?" Natasha asked. The question seemed to startle him, and she shrugged in the face of his incredulous expression. "We don't actually know what they think, do we?"

"If it's uncomfortable to speak about," Wanda offered hesitantly when Loki seemed reluctant to speak, "I can sift through memories. That's something I know how to do."

He reacted badly, skittering backward away from her, utter terror in his eyes. "Don't you dare!"

Both women looked at him, startled. "What happened?" Natasha asked gently.

"Do _not_ go into my mind!"

"Something happened," Natasha said, staring at him. "I know it's not pleasant to have your fears and worst memories dragged out of you, it's been done to me countless times, but this is extreme, don't you think?"

"There are creatures in the Void," Loki said, his voice shaking. "I survived it once thanks to magic, and I will not go through it again now that I'm without it."

Wanda frowned and seemed almost ashamed of herself. "I didn't mean to upset you," she whispered. "I thought it was going to be helpful."

"It is _not."_ There was a fine tremor in Loki's body, and he refused to look at them. "It is not," he repeated in a softer tone, still not looking in their direction. His fists were clenched in his lap, and his gaze was somewhere distant.

"Is it hard to do that illusion spell you do?" Natasha asked abruptly.

Now Loki faced her, confusion in his troubled gaze. "What?"

"If Wanda can pull off that spell, we can get out of here and find out for ourselves what the Asgardians really think of you. And we can practice her limits on it, because that would make a huge difference in how we can interact in the world." She tugged on a lock of her blonde hair. "The bleach is pretty irritating, and as much as I can pull off blonde, I miss my red."

He didn't smile at her words, and just sighed at Wanda's eager expression. "You're going to ignore what was said here?"

"I think none of us are ready to get into all those issues you're carrying around," Natasha replied, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging. "Unless you want to."

"No," he said, sounding like a sulky child.

"Well, I'd wanted to learn how to do those illusion spells," Wanda said, still eager to learn. "This can be my first lesson, yes?"

Loki pressed his lips together. "It gets complicated if you want to give the illusion accuracy and weight. It will do you no good if you cast an illusion that is a static image of the self you want to be when you cannot speak or move."

Wanda's mouth formed an O of surprise. "That makes sense! I wouldn't have thought about it like that if you hadn't mentioned it."

"Because whoever gave you this gift didn't see fit to train you in its use," he said tightly. "Which is a crime they should burn for. Wild magic is dangerous."

She winced. "Yes. It can be. Which is why I'd rather do this the right way."

Natasha uncrossed her arms to lay a hand on Wanda's shoulders. "Don't be so hard on yourself. There aren't many magic users on this realm, and most won't have anything to do with people that aren't trained the way they like." At Wanda's incredulous look in her direction, Natasha raised her hands in a placating way. "I may have hacked old SHIELD databases and found notes on people that were trained in the mystic arts, as they call it. The agents that tracked them down in Hong Kong called them insular and unwilling to compromise."

Loki actually snorted and looked amused. "The so-called Sorcerer Supreme in New York is hardly any better and quite rude."

"You've met him?"

"Briefly," Loki said, disgust in his tone. The tremor in his body was still there, faintly, something in his mind still generating it. "Enough of that," he said, gaze snapping sideways as he decided to shut the door on those memories.

"You need to understand the basics of the world, little witch, and until you know that, you won't know how to change it," Loki said as he stood up. "There are ways to understand it, and it'll be easier that you weren't taught anything false. Whatever they would've said are lies."

Natasha nodded in the direction of the hallway. "I'll leave you to it."

"Not curious in the least?"

She shrugged. "I don't do the magic thing. The lesson will be wasted on me."

Not waiting for a response, Natasha headed toward the kitchen. Loki didn't call her back, and launched into his lesson on the nature of reality.

***

When the rain came down and Natasha stood watching it on the back porch, Loki approached her. "I used to be able to make storms."

"I'm sure you will again, when the magic comes back."

Natasha hadn't bothered to turn around, but she did when Loki made a frustrated noise. "What? You don't think that it will?"

"I am not a patient creature by nature."

"Creature."

Loki winced at her bland tone. "Am I not?"

"Not what? A creature? I always thought of creatures as animals incapable of thinking or planning anything. You're not human, but you're still a person."

"You are quite forgiving," he murmured, eyeing her warily.

"And you're being very honest right now," she replied.

"There is no point to lying right now. We are at each others' mercy, are we not?"

"No, we're not," Natasha said. She brushed her hair back from her face and leaned against the beam holding up the porch roof. "We're not friends, but we're not adversaries here. It doesn't have to be a carefully annotated ledger."

"Says the woman who has a ledger."

Natasha gave him a thin smile. "I've done my fair share of terrible things, and possibly have tipped it into the black. But for right now, I'm not keeping score. This now isn't because you owe us or we owe you."

"Why would you help me, then? I've hardly done you any favors. I've threatened you personally the first time we met, as well as that of your friend and comrades."

"I know what it's like to be backed into a corner," Natasha told him honestly. "We're not friends," she repeated, "but perhaps comrades."

Loki seemed to mull it over, as if tasting something unfamiliar. "It has been a very long time that I had comrades I fully trusted. I don't think I'm capable of that anymore."

"It's probably too much to ask that you treat us the way we treat each other," she said with a shrug. "We're not your people, I get that. But not everyone is out to get you."

"If they knew the truth of me, they would."

"I used to think that," Natasha said with a half nod at him, then she looked out at the rain coming down. It should've been gloomy, but Loki actually felt soothed by the sound of it and that he wasn't actually alone in the house. She seemed to be contemplative as well, and he felt a sudden kinship with her that he didn't expect to.

"What changed?" he asked, curious about her and this sense that they were similar.

"Time."

He heaved a sigh. "I have been too long in places without time, where memories are sharp and painful. I don't think I have it in me to let go."

She looked back at him with another of her thin smiles, understanding but no pity in her eyes. "I suppose it took magic to get there. Without that magic, all you have is time."

Damn it all, she was right.

***

Steve was clearing out more of the backyard when Loki next tried to view it. He didn't seem to care that he was getting dirty from the mud, or that there was no real point to pulling up weeds at the edges of the clearing. It seemed as though it was only busy work, but he did it with all of the determination he seemed to put into every task he did.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning. 

"If we're going to be here a while, I figured I'd get a garden started," Steve said, tossing aside another section of the reedy grasses. Loki blinked at him in surprise, and he looked up, squinting at him against the sunlight. "Never did that before?"

"No," Loki said, surveying Steve's handiwork a bit more closely. "Do you expect to be here long enough to actually harvest a crop?"

Shrugging in an unconcerned way, Steve turned back to the area he was clearing out. "I figure, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, green beans, carrots, beets, broccoli—"

"What are you even talking about?" Loki interrupted, frowning even more deeply.

Steve turned back from where he had been pointing out the areas he had planned. "A garden. For vegetables. Food. So that you don't have to leave for supplies if you don't want to."

The clipped words sounded less like Steve was angry and more like he didn't know how to explain the concept more simply. "What?"

"You don't know how to live on this planet long term on your own," Steve said patiently. "You can talk to Natasha and teach Wanda, but there's not much Sam and I can do to help if there isn't anything we have in common with you. So. I can do this."

Loki blinked and considered sitting on the muddy ground next to him. "You didn't have to."

"No, I didn't," Steve agreed.

The frown was more out of confusion now. "I don't know how to respond to this," he said finally. Heaving a sigh, he gently folded himself into a seated position beside Steve. "People stopped doing nice things for me a long time ago." He raised a hand when Steve would have spoken. "I mean long before I even came to your realm to try to rule it."

"Have you thought about why that is?" Steve asked, pulling aside another few weeds. "If you keep people at arm's length, or push them away, they don't know how to respond to it. They don't know if you even want them around. Sometimes they give up."

"Speaking from personal experience?" Loki asked, unable to help himself.

"There's only a handful of people I would never give up on," Steve replied, giving a few stubborn weeds a harder yank than was strictly necessary. "I can't say you're one of them, so I don't know what you were even dealing with before. But whatever it was, it's over and done with now. You're not on Asgard anymore. You're not a dispossessed prince in charge of an alien army anymore." He tossed the weeds aside and turned to look at Loki. "So you've run out of excuses, not that I was ever a fan of excuses."

"Excuses!" Loki exclaimed.

"I've always been one for hard work. No matter what it is. And doing the right thing."

"Even if it counters your government."

Steve shrugged negligently. "If a government is corrupt, if it's twisted away from its purpose, I'd rather burn it all out and start over."

Loki blinked owlishly at him. "Perhaps I was wrong about you."

"People misjudge me all the time," he said blandly.

"I can see why."

"You built this place intending for it to be a place to stay. Separate from everyone else, off the grid, and where none of the Asgardians would know where you are." Steve stood and brushed the dirt and mud off of himself as best as he could, smearing it around. He gave it up and looked around the yard with a distant looking expression. "I understand it. It's giving up, really, but I understand it. Sometimes it's easier to lay down, stop seeing the pain everywhere, just let it go and stop trying to fight it. Not my way, I never knew how to do that. All I seem to do is fight, and I don't know how to stop." Steve turned back to Loki. "So I can't help you with whatever is going on, but I at least can build a garden that'll last you."

He had the feeling that there was something else he should have taken from that, but Loki didn't know what it was. His entire world was still twisted and inside out, and the clever mind that built a thousand plots to counter others' motivations seemed to stall out. It was probably why he was so honest with these people, why he let them stay even though he should have thrown them all out as soon as he came back to consciousness.

"Thank you," he said to Steve, managing to sound sincere. "I'll help you build it."

Steve's smile was like a sunrise, and Loki found himself returning it.

***

Loki and Wanda sat in one of the empty bedrooms on the magicked second floor of the cottage, cross legged and meditating. He hated this with a passion, at the memories that it dragged to the fore, the sense of loss and jealousy that colored over all of the fondness he once had.

"You're empty," Wanda murmured, head tilted to the side slightly. "I would think for all the time you've spent resting, I would have expected something to build up. But I don't sense anything in you at all. No magic."

"Don't rub it in," Loki scowled at her.

"It's not that," she disagreed, shaking her head. "It's... The discussion that we had, about the foundations of magic and the fundamentals of casting. It reminds me of the stories that I grew up with." Wanda thought about it for a moment, translating in her head the old Sokovian tales to English and share it with him.

Loki snorted disdainfully and started to unfold himself. "This is a waste of time."

Wanda held up a hand. "There's a driving force to magic, yes? It is the same regardless of the type of magic we were talking about. A center, so to speak."

He stopped and stared at her. "That isn't wrong."

"For me, I know why I started on the path that got me magic," she said quietly, lowering her eyes in shame. "It was anger, loss, revenge..." She looked up at him. "I did a lot of wrong in order to get it, and it doesn't even matter."

"Anger is a powerful motivator," Loki conceded when she fell silent.

"I've lost much," Wanda whispered, fingers twisting tightly together as her eyes shone. "My parents, my freedom, my homeland, my brother..." Her lips warbled and formed a bitter smile that hurt to see. "Everything I am is paid for in blood." Scarlet magic wafted around her hands like tendrils of smoke. "Perhaps that is why it's red and visible for all to see. So they know where my magic is from. It's the red of freshly spilled blood, after all. And all magic comes with a cost. I just didn't know how much I would pay for it when I started."

He reached out and covered her hands with his. The red tendrils poked and prodded at him, as if testing his flesh, but didn't curl around him in the same way that they had touched her. He was an alien thing, and her magic knew it.

"But I still have myself, the path that I started with. I have my culture, memories of my home, my family, my faith…" Wanda watched her magic recoil from him and then slide back beneath her skin. "I think you have no center, and that's why you have no magic. You have nothing to build from."

Loki snatched his hands away from her, though he missed the warmth of them. "There is no Asgard," he said, anger in his tone. "It was where Hela drew her power from, and there was no way to defeat her as long as it existed."

Wanda looked at him with a curious expression. "If it was where she drew _her_ power from, perhaps you did as well. And now you have no home."

His breath stopped in his chest. She made sense, damn her, and something in him wanted to rail at her, strike her down and grind her beneath his heel to reestablish some kind of superiority. It didn't matter that she didn't seem to revel in her words, didn't glory in the fact that she had her magic and he'd lost his. In fact, it seemed to sadden her that he was an empty shell incapable of getting back to his full strength.

He didn't understand this, didn't trust it still.

She was continuing as if she didn't realize his distress. Maybe she didn't; he was so very good at hiding himself away, even those that promised to know him so well hadn't realized how much pain he had carried inside.

"...might not feel the same, but the others are trying to make a home here. Maybe you can, too, and then it will come back."

"Why do you care? What does it matter to you if I can cast? So I can teach you a few paltry spells that might keep you alive a little longer?"

Her expression flattened, and she stared at him in a way that felt as though she could flay his flesh from his bones. "Tell yourself it's so you can teach me if you like. If you need a reason. I told you why from the start, but you don't listen if it the same kind of reasoning that you have, and I don't think as you do, not anymore." She raised a fist, curling magic flaring bright and looking like a flame around it. "This is bought and paid for in blood, Loki. _Blood._ In lives lost and opportunities that died, in a heart that broke and keeps breaking with every breath in my chest. I'm different from what I was, but I'm a witch that's trying to keep to a better path than the one I started on."

The magic flowed out of her fist and enveloped her entire body, allowing her to float. "This is me. They tried to lock me up and push it down, bind me and keep me in a cell. This is what I am, what I've become. So I've committed to this, and this is what I'll be. Have you done that?" she asked, brows furrowed. "Have you devoted yourself to this? The emptiness inside you won't be filled if this isn't who you're meant to be, if this isn't the path you're set on."

Loki shot to his feet, lips pulled back and teeth bared in anger. "You dare! You're a child, no better than a peasant, and you have _no right_ to speak to me like this!"

Wanda floated back to her feet and shot him a pitying look. "I'm not the one that's lost, Loki. I'm not the one without a center." When he was about to counter what she said, she shook her head. "Not a home. Those can be replaced. But the center of you. The start of your path, the reason for the magic to grow, that's gone. You don't have it. And unless you rebuild it, if you can't find a center for yourself, you can't ever regain what you've spent in building this place. Then you'll be just like the rest of the Asgardians here."

It sounded like torture, and Loki flinched. He couldn't help it, and was ashamed of himself for being so transparent that this child could see right through him.

Natasha had been right, he'd once been a challenge for her. But he'd stripped himself to the bone, magically speaking, and he'd been lost long before they'd come to this realm. Loki could tell himself that he had been a good king on Asgard, that he had been an Allfather, that culture had grown and bloomed, that it wasn't all warmongering. He'd shown the people a different way, where it didn't always have to be battle and the clash of steel and sword. Hela had said that the gold on Asgard had been paid for in blood she'd helped to spill, that Odin had locked her away when she was no longer useful to him.

That was Odin's way, wasn't it? And Loki had locked away the swords when he didn't find them useful anymore. Hela had been right, he'd sounded like Odin after all.

Shaking, Loki didn't say anything as Wanda left. He might have been a good Allfather to the people after a fashion, but he wasn't any different from Odin. Frigga might have once wanted him to prove that he was better, but he wasn't. Brute force or magic, it was all the same, and Loki wasn't the innovator he had wanted to think he was.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

***  
***


	5. Starting Over Again

"How did you restart?" Loki asked Natasha abruptly when he found her alone in the kitchen with tea and a book that Sam had gotten. Steve, Sam and Wanda were out in the back at the moment, rebuilding the box that Loki had tried to put together with a hammer and nails. It held gaps in it, and he should have been more ashamed of himself for the subpar effort he had shown in the face of Steve's genuine attempt to help. He hadn't said anything about how disappointed he must have been, and had only said something about how princes likely hadn't gotten lessons in carpentry, and Loki had taken the excuse for what it was.

Now he was glad of it, because it left Natasha by herself, and he didn't want others to hear this conversation. Loki tried not to feel mortified by his own weakness.

He was probably failing at that miserably, too.

As much as it probably should have been insulting, Loki was also comforted by the fact that Natasha didn't even look up from her book. "You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," she said, turning the page. "Restart what?"

"Your life. Apparently, you've done it plenty of times."

"Ah. Didn't like how you reinvented it the last time?" she asked, not looking up.

"Look at me, damn you," Loki spat through grit teeth.

"You're shit at asking for help," she remarked, then took a languid sip of her tea.

He grumbled and stomped a bit, then came back around the table to face her. His mouth worked as he stared at her, then he heaved out a breath as if it was a chore. _"Please,_ Natasha," he said, syllables rough in his mouth. "I seek aid in rebuilding a life on this realm."

Now Natasha looked up, the corner of her mouth quirked up. "Very formal. I like that."

Loki grimaced at her. "If you wanted informal words, you should have specified."

"I also just said that I like that." She leaned forward, folding her hands over the book and pasted a pleasant smile on her face. "So you've accepted that this is going to have to be a home."

His chest puffed up in anger, lips thinning and eyes sparking. As he opened his mouth to speak, she waved her hand dismissively. "You weren't exactly trying to be quiet, you know. Sound carries, especially in a house that has no real ambient noise."

He flushed in embarrassment and anger. "It was a private conversation."

"Huh." She had that pleasant smile back on her face. "Well, that's going to be the first thing that we need to figure out. What kind of life do you actually see for yourself? How do you plan to live it? What things actually matter to you?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking you."

"There's no secret. There's a reason to keep going. Even if it's survival, even if it's spite. Once we know that, we have something to build on."

"Again, if I knew that, I wouldn't ask you."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Seriously? I know you've had a lot of heart to hearts lately. I'd've thought the one with Wanda was the big one. You know, how you have to have a home to have a center, that you can't rebuild your magic unless you have one?" She made a tsk sound when his eyes flashed and he nearly growled at her.

"I don't know what you want from me."

She actually sighed and closed her book, then pointed at the table across from her. "Sit down, Loki." Natasha waited until he grudgingly sat down across from her. "This isn't an exchange. I'm not interested in some kind of equivalent transaction," she repeated when he shot her a dubious look. "The key to any identity is something to base it on. Even crafting a false identity, you want to have something to link it to. When I was Natalie Rushman for a few assignments, she was a paralegal that grew up poor and was willing to work hard to never return to that." She gave Loki a pointed look. "So that's what I mean by what would matter to you. If it helps, create a few identities and try them on."

Loki gave her an incredulous look. "You don't try on identities like clothing!"

"Sure I have."

"It doesn't work that way..."

"Of course it can. Some things will resonate more than others, but at the bottom of it all has to be a core of sincerity. That helps the identity hang together completely."

He blinked a few times, mulling over his thoughts. "This is your spy craft," he said after a moment. "You're going to teach me to be a spy."

Natasha snorted and rolled her eyes. "If you have to think about it that way, you can. But it's less being a spy and just how to reinvent yourself. It's the same process, sure, but you're not exactly planning to rifle between a dozen different personalities, are you?"

If anything, Loki seemed to actually recoil from her. "Certainly not."

"Then start with one thing that is always going to be true for you going forward."

Loki bit his lip and his gaze lowered to the table. "I would have to reveal much to you, wouldn't I?" he said finally.

"Only if you want to."

He raised his gaze. "But this is not my strength as it is yours. I have never crafted another self. I may have used glamours and tricks, sleight of hand and illusions, but I had never lost sight of who I was beneath it all." His voice was small and fragile, and when Natasha reached across the table, she could feel the fine tremor in his hands. "I will now, won't I?"

"It doesn't have to be that way," Natasha said, voice soft. Compassion welled up in her, belying the image of the blackened, shriveled heart that she often projected to strangers. "Because it isn't necessarily someone completely new that you have to be. You're just figuring out who you are now, and what you want next."

"Who I was on this world before, I doubt many would even recognize me. But the Asgardians..."

"You think they'll hate you for what you've done."

"And what I am."

Natasha frowned at him. "Okay. You probably will have to explain that one."

His gaze dropped back down again, and she could see him swallow painfully before putting his hands on the table and folding them. "I am not actually born of Asgard, apparently. I was born Jotnar, a frost giant," he clarified at her frown, indicating that he could still see her even if he wasn't making eye contact. "I had been stolen from a battlefield, kept under this guise, raised as a prince and brother to Thor, their natural born son. I had never known that as a boy, and thought it was my magic that set me apart, made me different." Natasha nodded when he fell silent, hands tightening. "He would have started a war, your precious Thor. He wanted to prove himself worthy as a king, would have decimated the Jotnar and fully defeated Jotunheim. That was a task his father had not done, after all."

"Did you stop it?" she asked, voice neutral when he fell silent again.

"One grabbed me," Loki said, still not looking up directly at her. "And I changed. My form around its hand changed color, but not shape, and I did not die though the touch of the Jotnar should have damaged me. Later, Odin revealed how I'd been stolen, and Frigga said they never wanted me to feel different."

"They never told you that you were adopted before then?" Natasha asked, remembering how Thor had tried to wave off Loki's behavior when they'd all first met.

"I'd thought my magic came from Frigga. I'd thought of her as my mother."

"She raised you," Natasha pointed out.

Loki looked up sharply then, eyes shining and jaw tight. "I do not know what I should call her now," he said, each syllable painfully uttered. "Mother and teacher both, yet her lies were also the most insidious and painful."

"They always are when they're from someone you love," Natasha said, reaching across the table to place her hand gently over his clenched ones.

"Love is for children, you said," Loki said tightly, not breaking eye contact.

"Yes. Because for them it's pure and simple. For the rest of us, it's complicated."

He heaved out a breath. "I no longer seek complicated."

Natasha shot him a wry smile. "Too late for that, really. But that's enough to build a life on."

Loki blinked in surprise. "What?"

"We know what you want. You want something simple to rebuild from. So it means a lot of what you used to do isn't going to be part of it. The lying, the scheming, the double dealing..." She snorted at his offended expression. "Come on, you can't plan a revolution or rule without doing any of those things. If you're going to have a more simple life, then that's exactly what you started to build here. You're going to be a homesteader, Loki. Congratulations. There's a long and time honored tradition of that in plenty of cultures."

Looking down at her hand over his, he frowned, then looked up. "Lacking complication doesn't necessarily mean _simple."_

"Simple is not an ugly word," Natasha replied, amused by his reaction. "It means that it's a more humble experience than you've had before. It means you're not going for a throne, for power, for money, for any kind of thing like that. You're not going to hoard secrets. What you see is what you're going to get."

If anything, he looked almost ill. "This is so..."

"Different," she interrupted. "So no one would expect it of you."

Shooting her a sour look, his shoulders slumped. "I hate it already."

***

On the pages spread around the floor were several different kinds of runic scripts, grouped in a way that Wanda didn't understand. Loki stared at the scripts almost reverently, with the air of someone hesitant to disturb them but longing to. Wanda often felt the same way about the few family photos that had survived the bombings in Sokovia. "What do they all mean?" she asked, dropping a hand onto his arm and pointing with her other one. "To me, they don't really mean anything, but I know they're magic, I know they can be spells."

"It is the language of magic, after a fashion, and the intent of things can be fused into the drawing of each rune. Then it can be used in a physical way as a _taufir,_ a talisman of power from the rune." Loki's voice was soft, almost as if soothing an unruly beast, as he closed his hand over Wanda's on his arm. "Or divination, that is another common usage, but it is hardly very accurate. If they are sung instead, it is _galðr,_ the incantation of the word and intent in combinations, and the great songs of old can carry spell work."

"I've heard of different divination spells when I was growing up, now that you call it that. I remember cards being used. Not tarot cards, as people usually think of them, but playing cards or specially painted cards. Not my mother, not an aunt, I don't think, but someone in the kitchen when I was very small."

"Then that is where we will start. With the runes, the meanings behind them, how to draw and cast with them." He looked from the runes to her dubious expression. "I tried to talk to you about drawing in energies, but you're overflowing and bursting with it. You would do best to learn this, so that you can use that energy and redirect it for a purpose. Then it will be easier for you to control, and then you will not fear it."

Wanda blinked and then nodded. "Oh. That makes sense."

"As they would teach children the letters before the words for reading, we teach the runes before the larger spells. You want to shape illusions, but not the easy mask that stays still. Those would reveal you faster than any others would. But the carefully layered illusions must move with you, like a layer of clothing."

"Yes, that's what I want to learn how to do."

"That's not easy to do, just to warn you."

"That's why I'm going to learn," Wanda told him with determination.

Loki steered her to the rightmost sheet of paper. "We begin here," he said, patting her hand in an absentmindedly fond manner.

They began with the magical equivalent of _A._

***

Loki frowned as he walked into the kitchen, the other four occupants of his home moving to and fro in concert as they worked to cook dinner. They were used to this, despite being on the run, and for a moment Loki felt a fierce longing in his chest. Those four belonged to each other, and he had no one. It was absolutely a loss of his own making, but it didn't stop him from still feeling bereft even with company nearby.

Natasha looked up, the corner of her mouth crooking up a bit. "Don't just stand there. You might as well set the table, since it hasn't been done yet."

"You seek to control me?" he asked with a frown.

"Don't be obtuse, man," Sam said with a gusty sigh. "We're all chipping in, but the food's almost done. The table's not set yet, though, so you can help with that. If you're into helping, that is."

The addition had quite a bit of sarcasm laced into it, but not in a mean sort of way. If anything, it sounded like the snide remarks they made to each other before he had woken up.

Did he actually belong with them after all?

As she moved through the kitchen, Natasha hip checked him lightly. "C'mon, Loki. Time to get a move on. Start with the basics."

He didn't flush at the reminder of their earlier conversation, trying to play it cool, but it was still somewhat uncomfortable for him to think about. He couldn't help but think of _simple_ as unornamented and plain, and no Asgardian worth their salt would have ever wanted a life like that. Even the Asgardians here on Midgard wanted something a bit more flash than scratching out weeds from cold soil.

The dishes in the cupboards all seemed to carry Asgardian patterns, and he froze at the sight of them for a moment. Natasha caught it, and ran a hand along his shoulder in silent support. Sam and Steve were at the stove and sink, talking about the garden plans that Steve had made. Wanda was nearby, and apparently had inscribed a few runes in the garden boxes that morning to help promote growth and health of the plants within them. Time would tell if she had done the rune magic correctly, but Loki was sure that she did.

"I hadn't planned on this," Loki murmured. "I suppose the magic supplied it all."

Sam turned from his post at the stove. "No shit? This is all top of the line cookware, and just about every tool and gadget ever invented. No wonder your magic got used up if it would trick this place out like a five star restaurant's kitchen."

Steve and Wanda had impressed expressions as they looked at him, and Loki wondered why that would make a difference. They'd already known that he had built the cottage up from scratch and layered it with all kinds of magic to make it difficult to detect. He looked down at the plates in his hand, his thumb tracing a golden whorl. "There has been only the best in the palace, so it must have followed that template."

"We don't know a whole lot about Asgardian culture, actually," Steve said. "I mean, we heard some of it, festivals or parties or whatnot before. But about things like that? Not really."

"That's hardly the sort of thing he would have paid attention to, in any event," Loki replied, back a little stiff. He laid out dishes and silverware with jerky gestures. There were far too many knives and forks, as if it was a royal banquet of some kind, and he stood rigidly when he realized they were all staring at him. "What?"

"I suppose I forgot you were royal for a moment there," Steve remarked. "I've always had a simpler table."

Loki's jaw tightened. "There is a proper way to do things."

He shrugged negligently. "I grew up poor." Looking from the settings to Loki's strained expression, he gestured to the extra forks. "Can you explain all those? I only had a single fork and knife and spoon. That's just fancy."

With jerky movements, Loki explained the entirety of the Asgardian table settings. Natasha came to the table, rubbing her hand against Loki's arm for a moment before moving past him. "Think of it as extremely elegant and extravagant processing." She shot Steve a cheeky smile. "A war of words instead of fists."

Steve pointed a stirring tool at her. "Romanoff," he began in that playfully warning tone.

At Sam's and Wanda's eye rolling, Loki could see it for the easy camaraderie that it was. He felt a vague ache, which only deepened when their conspiratorial smiles were directed at him. He wasn't one of them, not by a long shot, and trying to bring him into the fold meant what? That he would roll over and become one of them? Roll over and help them run and hide from mortal governments and agencies?

The sick twist in his gut rolled down his spine as well. After all, wasn't he doing the same thing that they were?

Natasha gave his arm an amused pat, much as he had seen her do with the others, and then move past him to help bring things to the table. She joked about bringing a certain class to the group, as she had a royal last name; Loki didn't get the joke the way the others did, but he found himself smiling with them anyway when she turned her red quirked mouth and cheerful green eyes in his direction. It wasn't quite jarring that she was blonde, letting it grow out a bit, but he found he vastly preferred the red of her natural color.

He was mortal now, not a drop of magic in his empty center, but somehow that smile warmed him from the inside out. Loki belonged here, in this house outside of all known expectations, in the company of known criminals. Oh, how he wanted to laugh, bitterness and joy and fear all at once, pretending that time and history held no meaning.

Though he remained mostly quiet through dinner, the others did try to draw him into their inane conversation. Small talk, they called it, and didn't seem overly troubled when he remained silent through a lot of it.

Afterward, he agreed to help Natasha wash the dishes. It was done by hand, no magic or special skills. The kitchen had some kind of device to wash them all, but apparently they lacked the proper washing powders needed for it, and the others had ordinary dish soap for washing things by hand. "Does more than just dishes in a pinch," Natasha had said when Loki asked her about it. After all, why carry such things on the run?

"I am teaching Wanda the nature of magic as I know it, as I learned it as a child." He reached for one of the washed dishes to dry it as he said "Her magic is not exactly the same, but it is close, and that may be enough for the fundamentals."

"Have you found _your_ beginning, then? As a teacher? It sounded like you enjoyed that."

Loki wanted to kick himself for forgetting that the others could hear everything in the house, that the cottage might have odd spaces and dimensions within its walls, it wasn't truly a palace and there could never really be secrets here.

He carefully placed the dish in its cabinet. "Knowledge," he corrected. "I enjoy knowledge."

"Teaching is sharing knowledge."

"I am not used to sharing."

Natasha laughed, and it almost sounded musical, a sound that shot straight to his spine and made him uncomfortable with longing. "And here's the lot of us, all in your space, forcing you to share it all." She passed him another wet dish and watched him methodically dry it out of the corner of her eyes. "But you did enjoy it."

"I suppose."

"Part of your new identity, then? Teacher, not just survivalist."

His breath stopped for a moment. "You don't disdain it."

"That you want to remain isolated? Hell, no. I understand it for what it is."

Yes, he supposed that she would.

"I do miss company," he admitted, putting away the dish gingerly. He had no magic, he couldn't go about creating more on a whim if he decided to be a child and break it in a pique of anger. "I miss touch."

She flicked soapy water at him, eyes alight with mischief. "Do you really?"

It was instinct to bristle, eyes crackling, but he didn't hold onto that for long. "Why provoke me?" he asked finally.

Her smirk did things to his insides that he didn't think he would want to experience again. "I might dance on the edge of danger too much."

"That's a rather honest answer, don't you think?"

Natasha shrugged and grabbed the third plate to wash. "Fear gives you an edge. You have a certain clarity with it, and it keeps you sharp." She turned to him with a pointed look. "I don't think I know how to live without it, and I don't think you do anymore, either. The others, they're safe. You might not trust their motives, but you know they're honorable. They won't hurt you just for the fun of it, and you know they won't press any advantage."

Loki's mouth ran dry. "You don't count yourself among that number."

"I was raised and trained to be a predator. Those kinds of instincts don't die off easily. I think you're drawn to that. A safer kind of danger than what's out there for you right now. Because you do take risks, but they're _calculated ones._ It's the planning, it's the reward that outweighs the risk that you want. This world is full of too many unknown variables, and you don't know how to react to it. So you hide."

A shiver rolled down his spine. "You are quite certain of that assessment."

"Nothing you've said or done has proved me wrong yet. You still lack a purpose, and I think that's why your magic hasn't come back yet."

"So you seek to give me one?" he asked, the edge of a taunt in his voice.

Her eyes sparkled with delight and challenge. "I have a bargain for you, Loki. And I think you'll agree to the terms."

"What is your bargain? We've already struck one."

"Your tutelage for our safety," she agreed. "But this one is just you and me. You get lonely, and we all falter in solitary confinement. I give you a center to rebuild from, and you help with setting the rest of us free of the Accords."

"Do you really think you can do that?"

"It'll be in your best interest to do so. Because once you get your magic back, you won't be able to help yourself. You'll have to be known and admired by _someone,_ and most countries signed the Accords. Unless you bend your will to theirs, you won't be able to even use the magic you worked so hard to get."

Loki couldn't help but work his jaw. "And of course you all benefit as well."

Natasha's grin was almost feral, but it was one that Loki missed seeing in the mirror. "If it keeps the rest of us together, it's worth doing. Don't you agree?"

He sighed as he snatched the plate out of her hands to dry it. "Very well, Natasha. I suppose we have our bargain." He dried the plate quickly and dried his hands on the towel as well. "You humans tend to shake on a bargain, do you not?"

Her eyes twinkled, and she leaned forward to give him a kiss. Loki was startled, and couldn't help but simply freeze in place.

"Interesting," she murmured as she pulled away. "But possibly something I can still work with," she murmured to herself.

"You barter yourself in this plan?" he asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Not a barter," she corrected cheerfully. "An offering of sorts."

"That doesn't sound any better."

"How comfortable are you with me?"

He thought of the way her body had pillowed against his while he was ill, and had to forcibly push it away. "Why?"

"Because we're going to get very comfortable, very quickly as part of your grounding process, and you're going to have to trust me."

Loki looked at her smug expression warily. Oh, yes, he hated her plan already.

***  
***


	6. Easy Charms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was off last week with my kids for spring break and a whole lotta nothing happened. But hey, go figure, I did have a chapter prepped. I apparently prepared for time off better than I thought I did! :D

With everyone going stir crazy, Loki suggested that the others test Wanda's mimicking magic. It wouldn't be the nuanced and moving images that he could create, but it should at least help her get a feel for how many faces she could create at once. "Nobody sees Cap if he's dressed like a civvie, but I think my black self is gonna stand out something awful in Scandinavia," Sam said matter of factly. "Start with me, then add in Steve if you can manage it."

"Let's not all go out, then," Natasha suggested, shooting Wanda a concerned look. The relief on her face was almost amusing to see, but Loki told himself that he shouldn't poke fun. She was little more than a child at magic, and this was certainly a major test for her. "You three go, see if you can stretch it that far at first. Then we'll add in more."

"Should I go with just Sam first?" Wanda asked, biting her lip in worry.

"Sam's got a point. Lose the uniform, I'm just a guy in a beard, and there's plenty of those around here," Steve told her gently. "Not to mention, you'll have a little physical back up if it takes more of your concentration than you think to maintain the illusion."

"Exactly," Natasha nodded. She then nodded in Loki's direction. "We've got an understanding here, so you don't have to worry about us."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Please. We might not all be close friends, but we're comrades, yes? And you don't harm your comrades."

Loki wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that assessment or not, but it seemed to put the others at ease. The three of them left, discussing where they wanted to go and what face they wanted to try to put over Sam's. He stood uncertainly near the doorway as they left, and he wasn't sure what he would see on Natasha's face when he turned around. A deep breath, then he was willing to try it.

She wasn't even looking at him.

Natasha was cleaning up some of the clutter in the living room, which felt rather ridiculous to Loki. Who cared if the coasters were aligned with the edge of the coffee table? Who cared if the pillows and blankets were neatly stacked? Why should it matter if all of the books were put back on the shelves again?

"Not gonna help me?" she asked as she moved a stack of books.

With a sigh, Loki went to her side to help her. "I'd thought you'd start on this bargain of ours."

"Who said this wasn't part of that?"

He stopped and gawked at her. "You are inscrutable."

Her smile was almost fond. "Thank you. It takes a lot of effort for that, you know."

"Weren't you essentially trained to be such?"

"That doesn't mean it's not still work. It's easier for me than others, I'm sure." She finished tidying up her area and then took the books out of Loki's hands to shelve them. "This is all new to you, so I know it's harder for you to understand."

"You're being awfully kind to me."

She reached out and grasped both of his hands tightly in hers. "This is patience, Loki, not kindness." She paused, and she quirked the corner of her lip. "Or maybe it's the same thing in this case, I don't know."

"You don't know something?" Loki asked archly.

That she laughed at the words made it clear she wasn't angry with him, and thought it was nothing more than a joke. Her thumbs rubbed the skin on the back of his hands, and his chest tightened a fraction. For a moment, he was afraid that there would be raised blue lines on his skin where she was rubbing, that the Jotun heritage was bleeding through. He was afraid to check for a moment, afraid to see the blue skin he didn't want to acknowledge.

"It's okay to be nervous," Natasha said, her husky voice oddly gentle. She was dressed in ordinary clothing, nothing more than jeans and a striped long sleeved shirt, padding through the house in socked feet. It didn't feel like a seduction, and wasn't that what this was?

"I'm not an innocent youth."

Natasha laughed, but he didn't feel insulted by it. The laughter felt more like the kind she shared with her friends, a genuine amusement instead of a layered persona. "This doesn't have to be all about sex, you know."

"Wait, what? Wasn't it?"

Now she laughed hard enough that she dropped his hands to cover her mouth to muffle the sound, unpretentious and erupting from deep in her chest. Loki tried to push away the insulted feeling that was starting, and leaned a little away from her.

"You said I'd have to be very comfortable with you," he said, tone faintly accusing. "To start over and have a simple life. I'd have to trust you."

Tilting her head to the side somewhat, Natasha contemplated him. "And the biggest thing you could trust someone with is your body."

"Isn't that what you were referring to?"

"Not necessarily." She stepped forward, closing the narrow space between them, and ran her fingers down his arm. "But I meant it before. Touch, I mean. It's important. You go crazy if you're left alone too long," she murmured, bringing her hand down to rest on his chest, over his heart. "When I said touch, I meant this. That we could stand like this, that we'd talk, that you'd be known and seen, and you wouldn't have to worry about hiding yourself. In the beginning, especially, you don't always feel confident in yourself."

"How did you?" Loki asked, a slight rasp in his voice.

Now her expression turned sad, and she ran her hands up to his shoulders. "I was never my own self. My body didn't even belong to me. I couldn't ever afford to _not_ be confident about a persona I was putting together."

The words were matter of fact, not a ploy to wring at his heart, and Loki felt as though he had been slapped. That was the reality of her life, which her archer had downplayed so much when Loki had rooted around in his head. He blinked in the face of her open stare. "I don't know how to do that," he said finally. "I don't know how to be confident anymore."

"I know," Natasha murmured, sliding one hand up to cup his cheek. He stood very still as she stroked his face, gaze soft and tender. "It'll come back, Loki. Give it time."

"But I feel like I don't have it," he said, frustration sliding his voice into a whine.

"Maybe because there's people underfoot all the time," she said with a wry smile. "But this is a place outside of time, isn't that what you said? Where it was meant to be a place to hide out? So don't think of it that way. You have all the time in the world. We're here now, and this is where we're meant to be."

"Do you believe that?"

Her smile was soft and sad. "I have to. Don't you?"

"Much of what I thought I knew was proven wrong." He closed his hand over hers on his cheek, but remained very still, gaze locked to hers. "Perhaps it's best that I don't think as I once did."

"That's a good way to look at it."

"So we're not talking about bed play."

"Oh, that can be on the table if you want it to be."

Loki blinked in surprise. "You offer that so easily."

"I suppose I see the physical aspect of sex separate from emotional connection. Sounds like they're one and the same for you."

"I suppose," Loki began slowly. "I've had some bed play, of course, without any implication for marriage. But it was understood to be that way at the time, and I don't think it was particularly enjoyable because of that."

Natasha smiled, a faint air of curiosity about it. "Huh. Interesting."

"You don't enjoy it?"

"I can. I don't usually need it or want it," Natasha told him with a careless shoulder shrug. "How about you?"

"I've gotten used to being without," Loki said slowly. "But I do miss sex."

Her grin was wide and brilliant. "There. That wasn't so difficult to contemplate, was it?" At his look of confusion, she tilted her head. "You sounded so offended at the beginning of this."

"It sounded very tawdry in the beginning, I suppose," Loki admitted. "But if you meant simply touching like this and talking, that is most comfortable."

"Most comfortable," Natasha echoed. "Yes, I suppose that is." She let her hand at his cheek slid down his jaw, and she ran the edge of her thumb across the corner of his lip. "Especially if you've essentially been on your own for a long time."

"Yes, I have. Even when I had returned to Asgard, before its demise."

"Because you weren't you. You couldn't be seen, couldn't be recognized. So it didn't count that you were back home, because it couldn't be recognized as your home." Natasha rubbed the edge of his lip, where the vermillion border changed color, and Loki turned his head to take her thumb between his teeth. "But I think even before New York, you were lonely."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well adjusted people don't become villains. Or heroes," she added with a wry twist of her lips. "If you were happy and enjoyed your life, you wouldn't need to conquer a world to rule. You would have it already. Or have something that made you happy."

Loki looked at her, expression frozen in place, then grasped both of her hips with his hands. "It is too easy to talk to you like this. I'm not sure I like that."

Natasha's smile was mirthless. "It's who I was trained to be."

"And who did you want to be?"

"My wants didn't matter."

"If they did?"

"I'd have a family," she said quietly. She looped both arms around his neck as best as she could with their height difference. "It's why I'll defend the one I have to the death if necessary."

"What does it take to be part of that family?" Loki asked, voice rough with emotion.

"What did it take to be part of the one you left behind?" she asked, tone a little sharp. "It's who you care for. Who cares for you. Family isn't all about blood relationships."

"The man that raised me is dead, and he didn't acknowledge me in a positive way without my having to earn it somehow when he died. My mother lied to me from the beginning of my memory and never once apologized for it. My brother..." Loki's voice cracked and his fingers spasmed on her hips, tightening. "He doesn't know any better, and keeps coming after me, no matter how often I tell him to leave."

"Because he loves you," Natasha said patiently. "He always will."

"I don't deserve it," Loki admitted.

"No," she agreed gently. "But love isn't about deserve. It's just given."

"You said love is for children," he said in an accusatory tone.

"Because they're the only ones that don't question it. They're the only ones that take it, bask in it, and know they deserve it simply for existing. When we stop being children, we have to earn it, or question it, or doubt it's even real." Her voice was sad, and her indifferent mask slipped. "We'd give anything to have that back, wouldn't we?"

Loki's breath was a raspy heave in his chest, and he let her pull him down for a tender kiss on the lips. He responded, he couldn't help it, and pulled her body flush against his. "Even when I had magic, I couldn't turn back time. I could suspend it, capture the essence of it, but I couldn't reverse its flow. I'm sorry."

Natasha cupped his face in her hands and smiled indulgently. "But when you begin again, you create someone new. It's like turning back the clock."

"But you can't recreate innocence."

"No, but your new self won't carry the same trauma with him."

"You say that like it's easy."

"I've died thousands of times," she said, lips twisting into a wry smile. "There's a trick to it, sure, but at the bottom of it all is letting go and starting with a clean slate. Nothing carries over from one persona to the next, and you don't refer back to it." She pulled him down for another kiss, slow and sensual, and when she let go of him, his lips were still pursed slightly and his eyes were closed, the very picture of a well kissed lover.

He opened his eyes slowly. "Your charms, as ever, overwhelm me," he said, voice hoarse.

"We'll start with your speech," Natasha suggested, running a finger down the length of his nose playfully. "Not so formal. You're going to live a simpler life, and you should have simpler patterns of speech."

Letting out a slow breath, Loki nodded. "I like your kisses."

She grinned at him. "That works."

"I'll want more," he continued.

"I can work with that."

"And more than kisses."

Natasha put her hand on his chest and then ran it down to his belt. "I can work with that, too."

Loki nearly shivered, his gaze never once leaving her face. "Good."

"When I come, what name should I be calling out?" she asked, deliberately dropping her voice into a huskier tone.

Now he did shiver. "I haven't decided on one yet."

She let her hand dip lower, and cupped the bulge in his jeans firmly. "I'll still be Natasha, so we'd better name you and build your history first."

To his everlasting frustration, she let go of him and sat down on the couch. He growled and fisted his hands, trying to slow his breath, then went to join her. There really weren't any other choices he could have made.

***  
***


	7. Believe In Magic

Sam cornered Natasha by convincing her she needed to go on a run with him. "What are you doing with Loki?" he demanded. "And don't play the innocent card, please."

"I wasn't going to pretend you're blind or stupid," Natasha said, irritated. She shook her head and blew out a breath before coming to a stop. "What are you worried about?"

"Are you messing around just to see if you can? Or is this some sort of weird rebound thing? Because if it's a rebound thing, Steve is _right there._ Or _me,_ and it's really insulting that you'd bypass us."

Natasha snickered in spite of herself. "Sorry if I insulted you."

He cracked a smile and held up his hands. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't look at you sometimes, or caught you looking at me."

"You're handsome," she told him easily, gesturing toward his sweaty running gear. "A fine pinnacle of manhood like this."

"Ha. Why is it that you never boned Steve?"

"What makes you think I didn't?"

Sam laughed out loud. "Oh no, you didn't. He'd be all weird around you, and I've seen the way he looks at Sharon like he's still trying to figure out girls."

"He moves too slow," she sighed, shaking her head ruefully. "But I think he hit that at least once." She shrugged at his incredulous expression. "What? I'm not blind. And we've slept together in the sense of _just sleeping_ in the same bed. He's too honorable, you know? He couldn't do anything that wasn't serious."

"Okay, I can see that on his end."

"And friends are few enough right now I'm not going to screw anything up by pushing for more."

The amused expression slid right off of Sam's face. "Is this about Bruce?"

"I tried being what I thought he wanted," she said, a watery smile stretching her lips. "I guess it wasn't good enough."

Pulling her into a tight hug, Sam held her tightly. It took only a few moments before she melted against him and nearly sobbed against his chest and shoulder. "I'm sorry, Natasha. I'm sorry you couldn't find some kind of happily ever after. Of all people, you deserve it."

She clutched at his shirt for a moment, trying to find her breath. It was good to let loose every once in a while, and she'd been keeping her emotions on a tight leash whenever Loki was around. He was a mass of broken shards grating and breaking each other apart, and she couldn't afford to have the remnants of her soul ripped to shreds on his edges.

"I guess I answered my own question, then, huh?" Sam asked gently, stroking the back of her head. "Loki's safe, because you won't love him. You won't expect anything more."

"It's not even about sex, Sam," she protested, pulling back. "He's been so lonely for so long, and I know what that's like. Their culture is a warrior's, and there's such a longing to be touched and recognized, to be _seen_ for who he actually is, and he's never had that."

"And you know exactly how that feels."

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"Are you sure that this will be good for you?"

"Oh, it's probably not," she huffed, eyes lighting up with laughter. "But I don't do well without a little danger, right? Besides, he's the one that wants sex, not me."

"Do we need to hang a sock on the front door or something?"

Natasha laughed out loud and swatted his shoulder. "Maybe we can convince Wanda to set up some silencing spells on one of the rooms."

"You are _bad,"_ Sam teased, grinning at her. "Feel better?"

Rubbing at her face a little, she nodded. "Yeah. I've been wound too tight lately."

"No shit. Even _I_ could tell something was up."

"Don't sell yourself short, Sam." She gave his arm a light, playful punch. "You see a lot more than people think. You'd be a fantastic spy."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "Now I know you're buttering me up. C'mon, Natasha, I really did want a run with someone human. Steve's running is just sick."

Natasha laughed again and then took off, setting the pace for their run.

***

The runes from Wanda's notes were all laid out around her in the living room. Loki was sitting on the couch in jeans and a loose fitting T shirt staring at nothing, and Steve was looking over her work with interest. He didn't have or understand magic, but he was always ready to learn more about the world around him. Wanda appreciated that, because it helped her feel a little less alone when this entire situation was frightening. It was easy to think back on her childhood and the righteous rage she and Pietro had against Stark Industries. The truth behind it was so much more nuanced, and she didn't know if she could carry that much hate anymore. It was such a burden, and she was already weighed down with sorrow.

Loki had said she contained so much magic she was practically overflowing with it, and a lot of stories held that blood magic was the most powerful of all. She closed her eyes and sat in the lotus position, working on her breathing. She pictured some of her magic, that brilliant scarlet light and power, and tried to condense it down as if it was blood. The skin of her wrists tingled, but she didn't open her eyes yet. What if it went so horribly wrong that the magic erupted like an arterial spray? What if it made her explode?

_Drop. Drop. Drop._

Wanda cracked her eyes open when the stinging lessened. Hovering in front of her were three glittering rubies the color of her magic and about the size of her fist. She gasped in shock, and the tenuous hold she had on them broke. Steve dove forward, catching them, and they clinked in his hands just like jewels would.

"Did you just... concentrate magic?" Steve asked incredulously, shifting the three rubies carefully in his hands. He lifted one up to the light as if he was a jeweler, looking at the multifaceted gem refract the light. "It feels warm. Kind of alive, actually," he added, sounding almost uneasy about it. "Is that weird to say?"

"Magic is life essence," Loki said from the couch. He was staring at Wanda now, and had an almost ravenous look about him. "It is willpower and energy made manifest. Did you think you could distill it from your body like that?"

"I thought I would just make drops. Like blood or something, and it could power one of the runes we were studying."

Steve looked at Loki through the ruby. "Does this mean you could transfer magic?"

Loki made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he contemplated that. "I don't think it works that way," he said finally, a thread of regret in his voice.

"Because it's still my magic, and you said it was different from yours." He nodded slowly, though his gaze was still fixed on her. "If I wanted to give it to you," Wanda began uncertainly, "would you accept it?"

He choked, and his stare was incredulous. "You would do that?"

"If you can use it, why not? Would that make it easier to teach me?"

Now he looked hungrily at the rubies cradled in Steve's hand, but then his expression shuttered and he looked away. "It's like cheating," he said finally, shoulders hunching. "Using borrowed magic, even if freely given, would not feel the same. It might be more difficult for me to work with," he said, voice breaking.

"Or remind you of what you've lost," Steve said gently.

Loki nodded, not looking at either of them. "That could be," he finally whispered when the silence stretched out too long, too uncomfortably.

Wanda scrambled to her feet and gestured for Steve to approach Loki with her. They sat on either side of him, taking in the bent shoulders and bowed head. She took one of the three rubies and pressed it against his tightly clasped hands. His knuckles were white, and his teeth were practically breaking through the skin of his lower lip. "I gift this to you, Loki. For giving me the foundations of magic when I had none, and making me feel like I can control this energy." He held himself so still that she pressed it harder against his skin. "I know you're lost, that you don't know what you're doing either. But you're helping me find a place, and I think that's how you'll find your way." She gave him a watery smile. "You remind me of Pietro in a way. So stubborn, so determined to do things on your own, when we're better together."

He raised his head, and there was a desperate longing in his eyes. "He was good, you said. He gave his life for others at the end. I don't know if I can do that."

"At the end he did good, but we weren't always so. At least take one, so you can show me what you're talking about when we learn."

Unclasping his hands, the ruby fell between them. She could feel a fine tremor in Loki's shoulders, and she threw an arm around them. Steve closed his hand around the two remaining rubies and tapped Loki's knee. "If you're not comfortable, Loki, don't feel like you have to. That's not what this is, okay? I know lots of people before always seemed to want something from you. And I guess we do, too, because we just want to be safe. But you don't have to do it if you don't want to. If we really make you uncomfortable here, we'd take off. All we'd ask is that you don't tell anyone we were here."

"Who would I tell?" he rasped.

"You could, is the point," Steve said. "Yes, we don't want to be known, but I'm not going to threaten you to do it. None of us are. That's not why we're on the run, we just don't agree with the Accords and don't want some committee determining who we save or when." He moved the hand from Loki's knee to cover his loosely clasped hands. "This is your world now, Loki. Maybe it doesn't feel like anything you've ever known. I know how that goes."

Loki looked at him, understanding in his eyes. "The man out of time, they call you."

"Yeah. This is my world, and it needs saving, but it's not the one I knew. I can't just leave it to fail." He paused. "From our talks, I get the feeling that you've never been the one to just break apart things just because. So maybe what happened years ago was out of character, maybe there was a particular purpose. I don't know, I don't need to know. But what you do from here on out matters, Loki. This is who you're going to be, right? So right now you're a teacher, and you're giving us a safe place to stay. That says to me more about the kind of man you're planning to be. So if you're able to use this magic, I don't think you'd do anything harmful with it. If that's what you're afraid of."

He shook his head. "Not that. But... I've different kinds of magic than this naturally. What would happen to me if I took in chaos magic? How would I change?"

Wanda tightened her grip on his shoulders. "Would you really?"

"Of course I would."

"But everything we experience changes us, yes? I don't think my magic can change the entire world or every part of your being. I made these thinking that I could use them for spells. That if I concentrated this power outside of myself, it would go wild." She smiled and bumped his shoulder gently. "Didn't you say I had too much power when I cast? That it was sloppy? I was thinking this is how I could do it neatly for the runes you showed me."

Biting his lip again, Loki closed his eyes and pressed his hands together. The ruby between his palms didn't shatter, but melted right into him and a red glow soon suffused his hands. It grew slowly up his arms, tendrils snaking through him as if following his veins and arteries. The glow was soft, not as vividly bright as Wanda's spells usually were, and soon filled his entire body before slowly ebbing.

He cracked his eyes open when he could feel the magic dying down. "And?"

"You didn't explode," Wanda said brightly, a grin on her face.

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. "Next time, if that's a possibility, warn us?"

Loki felt a bubble of hysterical laughter building up inside of his chest. The magic that Wanda had gifted him with was warm, as Steve had said, and didn't feel like his own. But it was there, swirling inside the empty center of him, and wasn't trying to break free. It was willingly given, a gift, and warmed him from the inside out.

"I don't feel ill," he said, wonder in his voice. The laughter bubbled up and out of his lips, and his shoulders shook with it. "I feel... almost right. Almost as I used to be."

Wanda tightened her hug around his shoulders as she grinned. "There. Intention and will, you said. We're already going pretty far in our lessons!"

The warmth inside of him wasn't just from her magic, he realized. That was contentment and pride in a job well done.

Perhaps there was something to this life of simplicity after all.

***

Sam was quite obvious in his wish to take Wanda and Steve into Sweden to test her abilities again. Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked at his suggestive eyebrow wag, and waved them off to leave. "Do everything I wouldn't do!" he chortled, earning him odd looks from the others before the left the house.

Loki had been upstairs writing up the next study outline for Wanda, and came downstairs with a sheaf of pages in his hand. "Wanda, I felt—" He stopped abruptly and looked around the living room. "Where did she go?"

"Out," Natasha called from the hallway. "The guys wanted to test the illusion spell again."

"It's hardly ready to cover the three of them..."

He fell silent again when she returned to the living room, this time without her shirt on. She was in a plain white bra as well as her jeans and socks, an expectant look on her face. "You... You seem to have misplaced your shirt," he said finally.

"Should I misplace the bra, too?" she asked with a falsely innocent tone.

Swallowing, Loki continued into the living room and deposited his outline on the coffee table. "I did not suppose this would happen quite so soon."

"Was there a reason to wait?"

Letting out a slow breath, Loki stood at his full height and shook his head. "I suppose not."

She approached him and tugged up on the edge of his shirt, exposing a strip of skin. "Don't worry, I'm not about to steal your virtue."

"I suppose it's more the uncertainty of your motives."

Once his shirt was off, she ran a hand over his chest. "Sit. No point in swearing I won't do more than this, but you'd mentioned touch was good. Skin to skin is always best." When he didn't move fast enough, she tugged him over to the couch and pushed him into a seated position. She plopped down onto his lap and draped her arms around him.

Loki swallowed uneasily, settling his arms around her torso, fingertips ghosting over her skin. "I think the reality of the situation is quite different from what I thought you meant."

Natasha pulled slightly on his shoulders so that his head was pillowed on her breasts. "I won't hurt you, Loki," she said quietly, starting to pet his hair. "Unless you ask me to, that is," she added in a thoughtful tone.

He stilled, frowning. "Why would I ask you to do that?"

"Some people like it a little rough in the bedroom. Pain play, that kind of thing."

"Ah. Not torture."

"Nothing that isn't consensual."

"Is that common on this realm?" he asked curiously. "I didn't gather that from my prior visits here, but I hardly asked about bedroom activities."

She chuckled, a low and husky sound that reverberated through him. His grip on her firmed, and his eyelashes fluttered against her chest. "It's not exactly polite company conversation. But we're beyond that, aren't we? And if it gets to be more than this, we should know what we like, hm?" she asked, scratching his scalp lightly. He was all but purring at that, practically kneading the skin above her hip. "So this is a good touch, then," she said, amusement clear in her voice.

He obviously ignored the taunt. "Touch is good," he murmured, lips pressed to the skin just above the line of her bra. It wasn't a kiss, nothing close to that, more that he needed every part of his body pressed as close to hers as possible.

"So... Particular favorites?" she asked, moving one hand down the exposed part of his back, using her fingernails to run lines along his skin.

Loki shivered. "This. Gentle touch, the edge of danger... Do they play with ropes and blades on this realm?"

"They can," Natasha said, making her scratches a little harder. "I know how to play those kinds of games very well."

"How unsurprising," Loki replied drolly, still keeping his eyes closed.

She laughed, that same amused one that sent a shiver down his spine. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you'd like to get creative in the bedroom."

His cock twitched, which probably should have been mortifying. With his eyes closed and the constant touch, it seemed fairly natural. Her heartbeat under his ear was soothing, almost as if lulling him to sleep. "It's been some time," he murmured.

Natasha slid her hand down his back, then to his waistband. "Let me guess," she purred. "You were in charge then?"

Loki actually reacted badly to that, startling her, and his gaze was wary as he stared at her, shoulders hunched and his hands almost painfully tight on her hips, as if he would shove her off of him. "What have you heard?" he hissed.

Carefully, maintaining eye contact all the while, Natasha soothed her hands along his shoulders and then the top of his chest. "Nothing. I've been on the run here, remember? I was guessing because of how you seemed when you were last here." Because his tension hadn't eased in the slightest, Natasha frowned. "You don't have to explain anything you don't want to. Is it because of the circumstances of your birth?"

"No. And I don't want to talk about it."

"Then don't. You don't have to, I meant that." She brought one hand up to caress his cheek and spoke gently. "Will it be easier if I take charge, then? I tell you what to do?"

Something in his gaze had shuttered. "You enjoy that kind of game." His voice was flat and lifeless, and he couldn't relax.

"When it's a game we're both intent on playing," she said, running her fingers gently over the curve of his cheek. "If it's not something you enjoy, we won't play."

"I won't call you Master."

She snorted and rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. "I've never been fond of that title, so no worries here."

His eyes searched hers, looking for a lie that wasn't there, and his tension only fractionally loosened. "You could be a queen of lies."

"I haven't told you any since Thor asked me to see how you're doing."

"Why? Honesty is painful."

"When you use it like a knife."

"You excel at blades."

"And when you're not pitying yourself, so you do," Natasha said sharply.

Loki's breath left him in a pained woosh. "You don't fear me, and you don't fear an unknown past that can haunt a god. What _do_ you fear?"

"Everything," she said quietly. "I just don't let it stop me."

Disbelieving, he shook his head. "It isn't so easy."

"I didn't say it was."

His grip on her loosened, but she was still likely to have bruises later. "Why does it look so?"

"Practice," Natasha murmured before leaning in to kiss him. It was soft, slow, lips only, easy to pull away from if that was what he wanted to do.

Instead, Loki wound one hand in her hair and all but crushed her to him, opening his mouth under hers and sliding his tongue between her lips.

He tilted his hips up when she reached down with her left hand to fondle him through his pants, making him growl against her mouth. Fumbling with the clasp of her bra, Loki finally got it undone and pushed the straps aside to run his hands along her back. He gasped and broke the kiss when he had to draw breath, and Natasha pulled back long enough to toss the bra aside, leaving her breasts bare for his view.

It felt surreal, and Loki pulled her toward him. She clearly had expected him to want to kiss her again, but he pressed his cheek to her breast, mouth open and breath moist and warm against her skin. "This time," he said after a moment, breathing hard when she continued to stroke him, "I would like the touch to be gentle. No tricks, no games." He turned his head slightly, pressing his mouth to her skin without trying to suckle the nipple. "It's been a long time since my desire was my own," he admitted finally. "And I desire to explore you slowly."

Natasha made a pleased humming sound. "I like the sound of that. Formal and respectful," she murmured, bringing her other hand up to the nape of his neck. "Too many haven't been that way with me," she added when he tilted his head up to look at her quizzically.

"You can explore me as well."

Her eyes twinkled and she leaned back to get off of the couch. He missed her touch immediately, but couldn't help but grin when she asked "Your bedroom or mine?"

***  
***


	8. The Power of Touch

Loki's bedroom was in the back of the house, farthest from the front door and overlooking the garden and backyard. The walls looked as if they were pearlescent white marble with dark gray veining, and the floor was a similar kind of marble as the walls, but of the darker gray color with the pearlescent white veining in a reverse pattern. The window was framed in ebony wood, with light gray shades that were pulled to the side. Light spilled into the room from outside, making the entire room seem bright and inviting. His bed was large and comfortable looking, with a rather plush forest green comforter as well as large pillows in green and light gray. Other than the bed, there were only two bookcases stuffed to the gills with books and scrolls, and a door that likely led to a closet since no dressers were present.

"Very nice," Natasha murmured, taking a look around the room and then running a fingertip along one of the marbled walls. "Oh. Cool."

"I suppose I tolerate the cold because of my heritage," Loki said, sounding as if the words were dragged out of him.

Natasha turned back to him and looped an arm through his, mouth quirked. "It can also mean _interesting_ or that I think something is pretty nifty." She leaned into him, pressing her bare breast against him. "Not everything is a dig into the past, Loki."

With a pained breath, Loki nodded. "I suppose I should get used to Lawrence."

"You didn't particularly like that name."

"I didn't come up with anything better."

"There's time."

"Or you pick."

"It should be a name that feels natural to you. It might be weird if I pick a name for you."

"Frigga chose this one for me," Loki pointed out. His mouth twisted and she could feel the shiver that rolled through him. "I hadn't considered other ones until you made mention of it, and none feel like me."

"Thinking of Asgardian ones?" Natasha guessed. At his nod, she turned to press her breast into his skin again. "Well, who said it had to be Asgardian? We've a whole world of cultures here for you to choose from. And time to find who you'd like to be."

Loki blew out a slow breath. "Which is far harder than I thought it would be."

"You're also overthinking it," Natasha murmured, straightening and then tugging him toward his bed. "Lie down."

"You do so enjoy getting to command me," he said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice as he laid down on top of his covers, limbs spread-eagled.

She smiled, eyes dancing a bit. "And you seem to enjoy getting commanded, so aren't we a pair?" Climbing up beside him, she laid a hand on his chest. "I won't abuse the privilege, not to worry," she assured him.

Another slow breath, and he nodded. "I don't think you will."

"As hard as it is, _don't think._ Everything seems worse then." She started to slowly trace the planes of his chest with her fingertips, touch light as she maintained eye contact. "Just feel. This, the bed, the temperature, whatever's happening between us."

His breathing was a little ragged. "You make that sound easy."

Rubbing his nipple, the corner of her mouth quirked up when it pebbled. "I know it's not. But this is a focus point. A meditation of sorts."

"Meditation is mental."

"This can be the physical form of it."

Fingers twitching, he ultimately grasped his comforter. "Am I not allowed to touch you?"

The quirked smile was kind as she nodded. "You can touch me wherever you like."

Loki reached out to rest his hand on her thigh, even though she was still wearing her jeans. He kept close watch on her reaction as he ran his hand up over her hip to touch her skin even as she continued to stroke his chest and stomach. She smiled at him encouragingly, leaning a little in the direction of his sprawled body. She continued with the light touch, and true to his prior word, he was very gentle as he ran his fingers over her.

This continued for a long time, just looking at each other and touching. No words were exchanged, and there really was the sense that no time was passing at all. It didn't even feel sexual exactly, not as it had downstairs, but they were connected.

Natasha caressed him, fingertips or nails skimming across the skin, sometimes leaning over to brush her arm or breast over him as well. Her eyes skipped up to meet his when she ran her fingers down his cock and then cupped his balls. He was a little thicker and longer than human men she'd slept with in the past, and a corner of her mouth ticked up a bit. Loki's eyes slid shut and he let out a low moan. She blew over his skin, leaning over a bit more, smile widening as he twitched and then grasped her other arm. His moan was a little breathy, definitely needy, but his grip wasn't unpleasantly tight.

On a whim, she blew across Loki's cock, and he groaned a little, eyes squeezing tighter. His hand slid up to her shoulder, and he let his fingers slide down the slope of her breast as she leaned down a little more to drop her lips to the length of him. It was a tease; she had no intention of going farther than this just yet, not until he begged for it.

Dragging a nail along the inside of his thigh, Natasha continued to explore his body with her hands, alternating light touch with harder ones. Sometimes her hair brushed against his skin, sometimes a part of her body, and she noticed that he had his lower lip caught between his teeth when she looked up in his direction. Sliding her fingernails down from his crotch to his knee, Natasha pressed her lip to the knobby kneecap. "Is something bothering you?" she asked quietly, watching his reaction to her.

Loki's eyes shot open, and he seemed genuinely surprised in the unguarded moment she had to assess him before an indifferent mask slid into place. "Wasn't I to be focusing on your touch?"

"Yes, but you were far away for a moment there. And you'd wanted to touch me, but you stopped," she pointed out.

He frowned and her and propped himself up on his elbows. "You're down there, and rather out of my reach."

She lofted an eyebrow at him, as if challenging him to think of a better excuse.

Heaving a sigh, he pursed his lips. "You're being very gentle with me."

"Yes, that was rather the point, wasn't it?"

"I... I'm wondering if I should ask for more, is all."

Natasha scratched the inside of his thigh again, but this time hard enough to see the tracks as livid red marks on his too-pale skin. "Like this?"

There was a bit of a glazed expression in his eyes. "I like that," he said, voice hitching slightly. "I want to feel it. I don't want to be a ghost."

Interesting choice of words. Natasha nodded, raking her nails down again and then leaning forward to sink her teeth into his knee. Not hard, really, just enough for the skin to whiten a bit further, and then she abraded the marks with the edge of her lower lip. Loki's eyes fluttered a bit as he watched her, then nodded shakily. "Like that."

"You can ask, remember?" she purred, scratching his other thigh. She watched as he sucked in a breath and let his head fall back, body on display for her. "This is all negotiations, Loki. I can touch you wherever and however you'd like."

He grasped the sheets tight enough to turn his knuckles white. There was more to this, then, something more than his internalized hate for his origins. Maybe whatever happened between Thor's memory of Loki falling away from Asgard to his appearance in New York City, maybe something between then and Asgard's destruction. She knew what it was like, running from demons she'd rather forget, as well as running from demons she couldn't even remember. Being grounded in her body was difficult at first, and losing his magic likely made him feel even more out of sorts and helpless.

"Like that right now," he whispered.

Natasha slid her hands down beneath his ass and raked her nails along the skin as she shifted position to kneel between his spread legs. "Like this?" she asked, a playful note to her voice.

It looked like it took effort for him to pick his head up to look at her. While there was a glazed cast to his expression, she could see his irritation with her grin. "You know it is." He sucked in a breath when she scratched the stripe of skin where his ass met his thigh, ending right at the sensitive bit beneath his balls. "Ah, that... It's a good spot."

"Good to know," she said, lifting her hands to slide them up the sides of his groin to his stomach, the rough hair tickling the sides of them. She pulled back, fingers curling so that her nails would scratch him on the way back down. Just to tease him a little more, she kneaded his thighs and dropped the occasional kiss over spots that seemed especially red from the scratching. Her eyes flicked over his feet, seeing the wreckage of his toenails. His fingernails were immaculate, but his toenails had been ripped to shreds. The corners were torn down into the flesh, and layers had been peeled up and split. It was almost as if he had curled up into a ball and had tried to shred away the layers of his past demons.

Something hurt in her chest at the sight of that, especially when she recalled how he always walked around in socks and shoes. His simple clothes were still clean and neat, and he put forth the image of someone with better control than this.

Natasha soothed the red lines of her scratches on the insides of his thighs, then leaned in to nip at his balls with her lips and lick the smoother spot that had made him react in desire before. She chuckled at his whine of pleasure, then decided to lean down and lick a stripe up his cock. She even added a little swirl around the very tip, earning another whine. "You're so sensitive. I think we can do a lot of fun sensory play with that."

Loki swallowed with difficulty, and then shifted so that he could grasp one of her wrists without losing his precarious balance. "I'm trusting you," he said, a desperate cast to his expression.

"And I'm trusting you."

That seemed to help him relax, and he nodded. "Right. Right."

"I know, it's new," she said, amusement in her smile. She softened her expression and soothed her free hand across his stomach. "You'll get used to it."

He tugged on her wrist to bring her up over his torso. Once she repositioned herself to practically sit over his waist, he ran his fingers over the scar on her abdomen. "I want to touch you, too."

She reached down and grasped his cock in one hand, rubbing her palm over the head of his cock in slow circles. "I'm not stopping you," she purred. 

Loki let his palm slide over her stomach, watching her reaction as she let her own hands dance across his body. He licked his lips, seeing her pleased expression, then slid his hands up further to cup her breasts. His touch was far gentler than hers was, tracing the edge of her nipples with his fingers as she scratched his and smirked. "What?" he asked.

"I'm not fragile," she told him, eyes dancing with amusement. "You want me to ground you, but I'm already there. Sometimes I like it rough."

Licking his lips, he tweaked her nipples a little harder. "Like that."

"It's a start."

He blinked, then pinched her nipples before stroking them. He watched her reaction closely, beginning to grin when her breath caught. Playing with them until her lips parted and she threw her head back, Loki's breathing grew more rapid just watching her. Instead of asking first, he let one hand trail down to the waistband of her jeans, to the button and zipper. It didn't take too much effort to undo it and slip his fingertips beneath the edge of her underwear.

"Hold that thought."

Natasha shifted off of him, and he made a protesting noise before he realized that she was shimmying out of the jeans and underwear so she could be just as naked as he was. Loki licked his lips to look at her, the obvious strength and grace in her movements. She clambered on top of him, that amused smirk back on her face. "Get me wet, and we'll see how far this goes."

"So you do want to lie with me?"

"Definitely not opposed to the idea," she said, smirk turning into a full on grin as she reached between their bodies to grasp his cock and stroke him.

Loki traced her thigh until he reached the nest of red curls between her legs. His touch wasn't as gentle now as it had been earlier, and he slid his fingers between her folds until he could find the center of her. She was damp, but he could do better than that.

The slight wetness was enough to keep his fingers on her clit from becoming uncomfortable, and he rubbed her as his other hand continued to pinch and tug at a breast. He was beginning to get a better idea of how she reacted to pleasure, gasps and stuttered breathing, grasping his body as if she wanted to press her fingerprints into his bones. Using that as his guide, he traced circles and lines across her clit, almost as if he was trying to write runes into her body. His own breathing and whines were almost like _galðr,_ as if he could use the gifted chaos magic to make her passions rise even further. Maybe if he had magic to spare he would have done something along those lines, make her shudder with pleasure at every breath.

But Natasha was clearly liking his touch now, getting wetter as he stroked her. When he thrust his fingers inside her and crooked them, his thumb pressing hard against her clit, she let out a guttural groan and threw her head back. Loki watched her pulse jump in her throat as she all but rode his hand, hips snapping in a rapid rhythm. She was grasping his thigh behind her with one hand, and the other continued to stroke his body. Her touch was rougher now, demanding more from him, and he was only too willing to comply.

Her breath hissed out through her teeth as she shuddered and came, body clenching tight around his fingers. The scrape of her nails down his ribs stung, too hard for pleasure now, but he still grinned up at her when she lowered her head to look at him. He did that. She had been so careful in her control, not wanting to hurt him more than he wanted her to, and she had lost it when the pleasure he gave her was too overwhelming.

She smiled, a conspiratorial kind of grin, eyes dancing with delight. Her breasts heaved with her breath, and he pinched the nipple hard. "So you can be taught," she taunted.

"I'm a quick study."

"And I can have multiples if you touch me right."

Loki licked his lips. "And that would be how?"

"Ever gone down on a woman?" At his blank expression, that smirking curl to her lip returned. "Fucking with your mouth."

"You're trying to taunt me," he observed.

"You like dirty talk," she countered, reaching down to give his cock a squeeze.

He wasn't about to deny that, and only licked his lips again. "Women are a rare delicacy that I don't indulge in often."

Natasha laughed out loud. "Perfect. I want your mouth on me and I want you to fuck me with your tongue. Get me wet and dripping, then I'll ride your cock until you come."

She didn't have to tell him twice. Loki pulled on her hips to help her position herself over his mouth, and didn't even make a noise of protest when she pulled on his hair or scraped her nails down his scalp. He laved at her clit, sucked on it, curled his tongue deep inside her and lapped up the juices. Natasha moaned softly as he worked on her, his hands on her hips and thumbs pulling at her flesh to keep her open for his mouth. She cupped her own breasts and flicked at the nipples, head thrown back in pleasure. She only let them go when she was close, and grabbed his hair to keep him in place when he made a particularly good lick against her.

Another orgasm and her thighs shook on either side of his head. Loki was buried in the scent and taste of her, his eyes closed so he could revel in the sensation. She had said this could be a meditation of sorts, and now he understood what she meant. There was nothing else but this moment, no past or future. There were no worries, no concerns, no fears. His entire world had narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth on her and the longing building up in his weeping cock, hard and thick and aching for her.

Loki groaned when she moved off of him, her breath coming in little frantic gasps. Opening his eyes and licking the taste of her off of his lips, he watched her shimmy down. She took his cock in hand and teased him, dragging the head across her wet folds, breaths shallow when she touched her own clit with it.

"Please," he found himself saying, voice hoarse with need.

A god begging a mortal? It might have been unheard of years ago, but Loki had no regrets or qualms. This was right, this was just, and this was utter perfection as she sank down on him, her wet heat tight around him.

Natasha rode him hard and fast, gaze locked to his. One of her hands caught his, fingers entwined together as she pinned it down near his head. She propped herself up with her other arm, fingers digging deep into his shoulder for balance. Loki's free hand caught a bouncing breast, holding and squeezing at odd intervals as she ground down, chasing her pleasure. He felt an intense connection with her in that moment, crystalline clear. They were one and the same, two sides of the same coin, the same breath moving between them.

He cried out in Allspeak when he came, shuddering beneath her. She continued, grinding down hard as he hissed and moaned, muscles clenched tight. Natasha was whispering something, not really words, and her eyes closed as she gave herself over the pleasure one last time.

They lay curled in each other's arms afterward, breathing rapid. Without thinking about it, Loki used a fragment of the borrowed magic to cover them with a blanket. She felt perfect in his arms, and he could almost see peace in his future.

Content for the first time in ages, he slept deeply.

***  
***


	9. Shovels and Smack

Steve found Loki in the backyard looking at the garden boxes, frowning slightly as if he was trying to contemplate what to do next with the growing plants. "You water them," he said helpfully as he approached, pointing toward the boxes. "They're easy to take care of, but it still takes a little looking after."

Loki nodded absently. "I think there's a hose that was created along with the rest of the house and yard," he said, looking around.

"Yeah." Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment. "I have to ask: what are your intentions with Natasha?"

Startled by the blunt question, Loki could only stare. "What do you mean?" he asked finally, aware that as far as deflections went, it was pretty piss poor.

Folding his arms over his chest, Steve shot Loki a patently disappointed look. It actually made him want to quail and squirm a bit, which was rather impressive. If he was angry like Odin, perhaps Loki would have recovered some of his old bluster. But here was Steve, unerring and forthright, _disappointed_ in him, and the weight of that felt far too heavy for this new version of himself to carry.

"I didn't..." Loki let out a breath uneasily. "It wasn't my idea."

That didn't make Steve seem any happier. "Not your idea," he echoed, still disappointed. Norns, he felt like a child being taken to task. "So whose idea was it to sleep together?"

Loki winced and wished he could melt down into the ground. "Steve," he began.

"We found her bra on the living room floor," Steve said flatly.

Though he was pale, Loki didn't flush with embarrassment. Perhaps this time would be a first, because his entire chest and throat felt hot.

"It was just touching at first," Loki admitted, then winced at how defensive he sounded. "I didn't ask, I just didn't want to be alone," he said, voice thin. "Natasha was the one who approached me first about it."

Steve leveled his same gaze at Loki, and he wanted to squirm so badly, an errant child caught in the middle of a naughty act.

"You still didn't answer me."

"I didn't? I thought I did."

"What are your intentions toward Natasha?" Steve asked again, an edge to his voice.

"Honorable?" Loki guessed, then winced at the expression on Steve's face. "I don't know what she wants from me!" he cried, throwing up his hands. "She said she would help me find a new center for my magic in exchange for helping you escape the Accords. That I should trust her, and she would help me not be alone."

"Are you going to hurt her?" Steve insisted.

"Norns, no!"

Loki managed not to back down at Steve's stare, which apparently passed muster. "Well, then. You are both adults, and I'm the last person to lecture anyone on what to do."

"But you do," Loki muttered, not quite under his breath.

"I know how it is, being alone," Steve continued, and Loki felt chastised even without the overt words thrown at him. "It's easy to hurt others, even if you don't mean to. So I just wanna remind you not to."

As Steve uncrossed his arms, Loki shook his head. "And you? Are you one that counsels others and cares for them with no thought to yourself?"

"This isn't about me. She's my friend, and I'm not about to see her hurt if I can help it."

"What would you do?" Loki asked, curious.

"Beat the hell out of you, probably. Now that you're mortal, it'll probably be a fair fight."

Loki rolled his eyes and started to turn away from him. "Because it always has to be fair."

Steve caught his arm and pulled him back, a concerned expression on his face. "Hey. Loki." He grasped both of the other man's shoulders. "What is it? What's that about?"

"Nothing. You care for your friend, end of story."

"Hey," Steve began, not allowing Loki to shrug him off. "Listen, if I'm reminding you of something, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you, either."

"You're doing a valiant job of it," Loki replied stiffly.

"Listen. Yes, I care about my friends. I'm not going to apologize for that. For the longest time, I barely had anybody. Everything I have is going to be for protecting the people I care about." Loki tried pulling away again, but Steve gave him a shake. "I went into the ice thinking I wasn't coming out, so I'm not going to lose the people I've got left."

Loki stilled and all but gaped at him. "You expected to die."

"I didn't know I'd survive. I still had Peggy, there were people I knew, but it felt like there was too much at stake. Just one me versus everyone else possibly dying? I had to do it."

"You expected to die, and you did it anyway," Loki said, a slight rasp to his voice.

"Yeah, I know. Bucky would've said I was a dumbass."

Steve felt the shiver run through Loki. "I've survived what I should not have as well," he said, words halting and clearly uncomfortable on his tongue.

"Okay," Steve said slowly, rubbing Loki's shoulders. "What happened?"

Loki took an unsteady breath and tried to duck out of Steve's grasp. "I survived, that's more than what you need to know."

The look that came over Steve's face was difficult to bear. "I'm sorry."

"For what? That I survived to wreck your beloved home? That I can't seem to stay dead?"

For a long moment, Steve could only stare at Loki. "How many times?" Steve asked, voice gentle. That earnestness without the disappointment now, and it was just as difficult for Loki not to quail and whimper. "Loki? What happened?"

"I fell," he said, finally wrenching himself away from Steve. "Into the Void between worlds, a place that should not have allowed me to live, yet I did. Or it changed me, I don't know. I didn't die when I should have. I thought I was going to."

"Did you want to?" Steve asked, not quite touching him. Loki almost missed it.

"I don't know."

Steve nodded slowly. "I guess it was like that for me going into the ice." Loki turned toward him in surprise. "It was brave and all, sure, and I didn't know I'd survive it. But at the time, I wasn't sure that I wanted to."

Loki shivered. "The Void is emptiness. It is vast and dark, almost certain death." He looked at Steve, a bleak expression on his face. "I don't know why I didn't die."

"And then came New York."

"Even before then," Loki disagreed. "The creatures that found me? The horrors in the universe that your kind can't even name? Your monster friend? That should have killed me. They all should have. When I thought I was going to save Thor," Loki said, voice fracturing and eyes sliding shut. "I didn't do it for him, but I thought I was dying for real then. I thought it would finally all be over. I thought I was done."

Steve wrapped him up in his arms, a hug of comfort and friendship that Loki hadn't felt in longer than he could remember. His breath choked in his chest, and he couldn't help but squeeze Steve a little in return. To his shame, he almost began to sob.

"S'okay," Steve murmured, "I got you. I'm here. I know what it's like to keep going."

And he would, wouldn't he? Perhaps he wasn't subject to as many deaths as Loki had been through, perhaps he didn't understand exactly how it went on, but he would know about the sense of loss and horror at waking up in a world that wasn't like the one he had left.

"I used to think this meant that it had to be a second chance," Steve said slowly. "But I went back to doing the only thing that I knew how to do. I've been fighting so long, I don't think there's anything else but that in me. I don't know that there's really a purpose in this, that we're saved because the universe has a plan for us. But it's a chance for you to do something different, to make a life of your own, not just one that someone else planned for you."

"I don't know how to do that," Loki admitted, voice breaking.

"Me neither," Steve said with a rueful laugh. "Just as well that you went to Natasha for help on that front. She would be better at helping you."

Loki found himself shaking, and Steve held him through it, not saying anything else. There was nothing else left to say, was there?

***

"Is it silly that I miss things like shopping malls and nail polish and things like that?" Wanda asked Sam and Natasha. They were sitting in the open living room area, furniture shuffled around out of boredom, and she was trying very carefully to paint the fingers of her off hand with the remnants of the dark maroon polish.

"Those are all normal life things," Sam pointed out from his seat at the couch. During their last outing, he had picked up a book to learn Swedish, and it was currently open at the first page on his lap. He had been staring at some of the accented letters in dread fascination.

"Which means no," Natasha intoned, not looking up from her book. Barefoot and in jeans and a T shirt, she seemed to enjoy the lack of structure. She certain read enough of the books that were found in the house's bookshelves, which seemed to change their contents depending on the viewer's mood. Sam had declared it creepy the first time he realized it, Steve had been fascinated by it and Natasha had been charmed. Wanda had carefully examined each bookcase and hadn't been able to tell how the spells worked.

Wanda looked up with a pouting expression. "I might not even have enough left to do my pinky, and I didn't see this color when we were at that drugstore."

"Can you magic up more of it?" Sam asked.

She shot him a look that clearly said _I should have thought of that!_ and stared hard at the bottle in her hand. Red tendrils of power rose out of her skin and slid down her fingers, curling tendrils that looked like growing vines. They wrapped around the bottle, and the contents seemed to fill up slowly.

"Is it selfish to use magic like this? It feels almost like cheating."

"You still bought the original bottle." Sam shrugged at her curious look. "Hey, it's not like you went shoplifting with magic. And you _tried_ to find it."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"After everything that happened so far..."

"Definitely too hard on yourself," she said.

Shooting Natasha a dismayed expression, Wanda finally settled on sticking her tongue out. She got a grin in return, then Natasha crossed her eyes as she stuck out her tongue too. Sam just snorted and covered his mouth when both women stared at him. "Oh, come on! Superheroes making faces at each other because they're freakin' nerds? Priceless."

Wanda narrowed her eyes at Sam and pointed a painted finger at Sam. "I am no nerd."

"We're on the run, and what do you do when you're not trying to sneak out and make time with your boyfriend? You _study,"_ Sam chortled. "You are _so_ a nerd."

"Says the man studying languages," Natasha teased, nudging him with her foot.

"And the scary ass spy reading novels."

"I don't get a chance to do this often!"

"I rest my case," Sam said with a grin, shaking his book at her.

Steve came back into the house at this point, so Natasha looked up at him with her amused expression. "Good shovel talk?"

He looked a little sheepish, which made Sam grin and Wanda laugh. "You were kinda obvious about it, dude," Sam told him. He laughed outright at Steve's wounded expression, which made Wanda laugh even harder. "You good now?"

"I'm not going to apologize for trying to help protect my friends!"

"No one's asking you to," Natasha said, sticking her finger into the book as her bookmark and throwing her arm over the back of the couch. "I'm touched, really. Not necessary to do, you know, but I'm touched."

"'Cause you do realize that she's a badass spy, right? And could probably single-handed kick his ass even if playing fair?"

"Of course," Wanda pointed out before Steve could reply to Sam, "it wouldn't be fair."

Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. "You guys!"

Natasha snickered. "I do have a reputation to uphold, I suppose."

"Okay, okay, stop fucking with me," Steve complained.

Sam tsked playfully. "But you make it so easy to do..."

"I can still kick your ass," he said, pointing at Sam with a playful warning note to his voice and a grin on his face.

He rapidly flipped through the pages of his book, looking for some of the more colorful vocabulary that wouldn't be in an introductory one. "Dammit, I shoulda gotten the street version. How do I tell you to fuck off in Swedish?"

"Never a good idea to use swear words out of context," Loki said from the kitchen, an amused smirk twisting his lips. "You might not know if you're using them properly or not."

Steve jumped a little, a sheepish expression still on his face. No one mentioned the red rimmed eyes and rumpled look that Loki was sporting. "Uh..."

"You care for your friend," Loki said in a dry voice. "I understand that."

"You too, man," Sam piped up from the couch, turning around and shoving Natasha's legs aside as he moved. "We probably couldn't kick Nat's ass if she messed with you, but she'd at least get lectured to all hell."

"Oh, speak for yourself," Wanda called out, painting her last nail. "I could absolutely kick her ass if I wanted to."

"With your magic, maybe!" Sam replied.

"Which would be cheating!" Natasha chortled, waving her book at Wanda. "When we practice your hand to hand, you do _not_ use magic!"

Wanda stuck out her tongue at Natasha again then looked over at Loki. "You're welcome to sit next to me. I can do your nails, too."

Loki blinked at her. "Uh..."

"I think this color would look good on you," she offered, looking at him expectantly.

"It's just fingernails, it's okay," Natasha said, looking at Loki helpfully.

He wandered over to Wanda's side, a reluctant expression on his face. Offering up his hands to her care, he looked at the others as Wanda giddily set to giving him a manicure. "Nothing is really private, is it?"

"Pft. We've been living in each others' pockets for months before this," Sam said with a negligent shrug. "Don't worry, smack talk is a time honored tradition among friends."

"Friends."

"They don't do that shit on Asgard?" Sam asked, eyebrow lofted in query.

"I suppose it depends on the friends," Loki said slowly. He looked down at Wanda's efforts, which were very neatly done. "I suppose the color fits."

"Definitely. Dark colors on pale skin works every time."

"Does that mean I fit this world's stereotype of a witch?" Loki asked faintly. "Thor once said that I dressed like a witch."

"Eh, goth maybe," Sam commented.

"All the black," Natasha added helpfully. "I suppose some of the goth crowd is drawn to witches and witchcraft, but there's also vampires and all sorts of supernatural phenomena. There are also goth kids who wear brighter colors than just black and purple." All of the heads swiveled to look at her. "What? Perky goth is a thing!"

"Who were the kind of people on Asgard that would smack talk?" Sam continued, shaking his head at Natasha. "Thor, maybe. He seems that kinda guy, you know?"

"You think? I guess he kind of has a frat boy air around him sometimes," Natasha commented.

"Oh, that's not fair," Steve said, dragging over a chair so he could be part of the circle. "That's not a good comment," he added in Loki's direction. "Drunk party guy that doesn't listen to other people and is pretty dumb..."

"Well, if the description fits," Loki began in a lighter tone of voice that matched their teasing ones. Wanda paused before dipping the brush against a nail, and the others all stared at him for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

"That's right, you're his brother. You got _all_ the dirt." Sam tossed his book aside and leaned in with obvious interest. "There's got to be something good to talk about."

"You mean you gossip like market stall keepers?"

Natasha only snorted and rolled her eyes. Steve clutched at his chest as if wounded playfully, giving Loki a grin.

Sam shot Loki a smirk. "Got anything else better to do?"

Loki paused and watched Wanda paint the last nail on his second hand. He looked up with a slow smile. "No, and neither do you, after all. There are quite a few tales that reflect poorly on Thor, and I would be more than happy to share them."

All eyes were focused on him intently, and Loki was suddenly struck by a similar warmth as he had before. It didn't take trickery to be accepted into their fold, and he didn't have to promise them talents that would amaze or beguile. They were interested in stories, sure, but he would have been accepted just the same without them. Steve had wanted to know his intentions, but just as easily offered him comfort when he was in distress. None of it had ever been in exchange for something he was unwilling to give.

He found Wanda's magic suffusing his skin as he gave them a trickster's grin. "First, I must tell you what Asgard was like, with its golden halls and stone statues. The majesty of the palace, the nobility of the titled lords and ladies of court and the glittering jewels that dripped from every ranking soul like rivers." The magic seemed to writhe and twist around him, lifting to the side and creating a ghostly image of Asgard, the palace central to it with the rainbow bridge leading to the Bifrost.

"Damn, I shoulda made popcorn," Sam commented under his breath.

Something like a giggle escaped Loki, and he hadn't laughed like that in far too long. "The horses in the stables were of the similar variety as this world, but we also had exotic fare." The reddish image of Asgard as he remembered it shifted as if it was going up in smoke, only to reform into the stables full of horses. Some had four legs, some had six, a few had eight, and there were a few with wings.

Wanda reached out as if she could stroke one of the wings, but her hand went right through it.

"The Valkyrie were legendary warriors of the past," Loki continued, really settling into the storytelling mode. "Thor was certain that he could be one of them if only he trained hard enough. Of course, training with the Einherjar would be in his future, but he was never content to wait. There were times he tried to convince me to work on my illusion skills so he could appear older, like one of the guard. Or to give him a mighty beard like his father's."

Steve snorted. "For some reason, it's always the facial hair that does it."

"On this particular day, he decided, he wanted to ride one of the winged steeds. They were rare, and only the most skilled riders could ever hope to mount them. The wings made it complicated to fight, not to mention they had a temper and strength that could decimate lesser creatures. But Thor knew that the Valkyrie had winged steeds. They were the mightiest of warriors in the time before we were born, so in order to be a proper Valkyrie, he had to ride one."

"Oh no," Natasha intoned, dropping her book and raising a hand to her mouth. "I think I know where this is going..."

Loki smiled, savoring the punchline of his story. "Well, he was never a very patient boy, and wanted to fight. He was always eager to prove his strength and worth." Something like a shadow passed over his expression, but it faded quickly. "So this would be quite the test if he could accomplish it."

The horses in the ghostly image of Asgard's stables silently neighed and whinnied, looking more and more agitated as a slender blond boy began creeping in through the stable door. The winged ones especially were agitated, and beat at the door to their stalls with hooves that looked large enough to crack a skull in two.

Behind Thor were younger versions of Sif and two of the Warriors Three; they would meet Hogun much later than this particular story had taken place. Loki was with them instead, looking around anxiously, hands glowing with the beginnings of his illusion magic.

"'Go on,' Thor told me, 'make me a Valkyrie, they'll calm down then.' I wasn't so sure, but did cast the illusion as he requested. Needless to say, that didn't quite help, and he retained his telltale swagger as he approached the stalls." The ghostly image did just that, and the winged horses didn't seem fooled by it at all. "He was confident, of course, and didn't stop to think of what was actually going on. Sif tried to stop him," The ghostly image of Sif took hold of his arm, and Thor shook it off impatiently. "But Thor wouldn't hear of it, and climbed up onto the stall door and got inside."

If anything, the winged horse grew more agitated and crashed the gate with its hooves as if trying to knock him off his perch. Determined, Thor threw himself off the end of the gate to try to get on its back as if to ride it.

"But they knew better, and the horses were quite strong. It dashed down the door designed to keep it contained, and then raced right out of the stables." Loki proceeded to describe how he, Sif, Volstagg and Fandral had raced out into the courtyard, each trying to do what they could to draw in stable hands or someone far more knowledgeable to save Thor, since none of them were able to come anywhere close to them.

As he described the horse bucking and rearing, trying to throw of Thor, Loki's magical image moved accordingly. The others giggled and laughed as the image of Thor desperately tried to hang on, his face one of comical surprise. As the horse tried to take flight, Thor's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in horror. He grasped the wings in order to remain on the horse's back, but the lack of saddle and cooperation made it difficult. Finally, Thor was tossed from the horse's back when his grip slipped. A few feathers came out as he flew through the air in a messy arc, landing in a pile of excrement the stable hands had mucked out from the stalls.

Loki grinned at the memory as it unfolded in front of them all, and even laughed out loud as Wanda looped an arm through his and pointed at the illusion he had crafted. He was so pleased with himself that he didn't even notice that part of the castle behind the stable was more golden than red, and had more solidity to it. He stood and bowed theatrically, looking up at their smiling faces. It was comforting, and made him realize that he was safe here. He was truly safe and valued, and was just as included in their camaraderie.

For once, he didn't question it.

***  
***


	10. Weaving Threads

"You seem to be getting along better with everyone," Natasha commented as she slid into the seat next to Loki on the back porch. He was focused on weaving some kind of fabric out of coarse threads or rushes, Natasha couldn't tell. There was a pattern in the weaving, some kind of symbol that she didn't recognize and could only assume was Asgardian.

"Yes, we seem to," he murmured, not looking up.

She perched her chin on his shoulder and observed the way his fingers moved as she put one arm around his shoulders and the other looped around his torso. "What're you making?"

"There is much mythology on your world involving weaving. Even in these lands, too. What they knew of my mother..." His voice hitched and he didn't look up at her. Head bowed, his fingers slowed. "She did do a number of weaving patterns as part of her magic. She liked to say she was raised by witches, and knew all sorts of spells."

"Which she taught you," Natasha guessed, accepting the segue for now.

"The Norns are the Goddesses of Fate. It was true on Asgard as well, and few ever see them in the flesh. They were said to weave the fates of all creatures into a pattern of their making, and that we would never be able to understand it. Weaving carried many superstitions, some because of magic. The placement of each thread, the knots that are made, the patterns in the weave... it's related to _seiðr,_ which is my specialty. Illusions, manipulations of fate, telling and predictions of future paths..."

"Are you trying to find your future?" she asked gently when his voice trailed off.

Loki looked up at her, expression almost mournful. "I think my magic is coming back."

"I think so, too," she murmured, tilting her head to press her lips to his temple. "So what's your center? Did you figure it out?"

"You were right," he murmured.

"About?" she prompted.

"That I needed simple. Instead of trying so hard to be everything, to cow others into submission to my will, I should have thought of who I should be. This was once difficult, this working," he said, lifting up the weaving. "But this had once been a spell that could leave me upset for days on end because it would not complete."

"Why didn't it work?" Natasha asked, rubbing his shoulder gently.

"I didn't have the patience for it. I couldn't honor the intention behind such a working. It would not be pushed aside with force or want of power, and I couldn't understand why. Now I do." He turned back to the fabric in his hands. "I was not ready as a boy, and I had thought that such spell craft was too simple to learn."

Natasha leaned in a little closer and nipped his earlobe with her teeth. "But simple is deceptive, and it should've been one of your greatest talents."

Loki chuckled and pulled another thread through the pattern, then twisted it into a complicated knot. "I always valued knowledge. Obtaining it, dispensing it, hoarding it..." The edge of the thread was worked back down and around, then back up into another complicated knot. "It's the mysteries that I always liked. The stories. I realized that earlier."

She ran her tongue through the whorls in his ear and smiled when he shivered. "You're a teacher and storyteller."

"You like touching me," he commented, not disagreeing with her.

"You like being touched."

"And you?"

"I like touching," she admitted, running her hand over his stomach. "After a past where very little of it was actually real, it's good to be anchored in something that is."

"I'm real to you?"

"I think this is the real you," she murmured, pressing her lips to his temple. "Without the anger, without the pain, this is who you are."

"I think I might actually like who I am, then."

Loki turned his head and captured her lips with his. It was a soft and slow kiss, not exactly tentative but one that she could have easily backed away from if she wanted to. Natasha went deeper instead, licking into his mouth and firming her grip on his shoulder and stomach. He made a soft noise deep in his throat, dropping the weaving to wrap his arms around her and thread his fingers into her hair.

Natasha shifted her grip to lift the edge of his shirt so that she could touch his bare stomach and run her nails over the skin. When Loki pulled back slightly to catch his breath, she nipped at his lower lip and let her fingers skate beneath the waistband of his jeans. The noise deep in his throat was more like a whine, and she smiled against his mouth in amusement.

"There are so many things that I can do to you..."

"Oh, shit, I walked into the wrong end of this conversation."

Looking up at Sam awkwardly standing in the back doorway with a glass of iced tea in hand, Natasha shot him a wry expression. Loki looked mortified, and hastily tried to disentangle himself from Natasha's grasp. Which really only made him look like a teenager whose parent was about to ground him, and that was a concept that made Natasha want to laugh.

She tucked her chin onto his shoulder and tightened her grip on his other one. "Were you looking for us?" she asked innocently.

"Nah. Steve went for another run, I swear to God, that man," he added as an aside in a disgusted tone, "and Wanda was doing something creepy with magic. I needed to get outta there, and did _not_ need to see you guys making out."

"Hey, Loki," Natasha purred, not breaking eye contact with Sam as she smirked. "Wanna try things out with a third?"

"You're not funny," Sam said, pointing at her and laughing. "I can tell when I'm not wanted," he added, turning around before Loki could say anything. "Whatever. I need to go find some brain bleach right now."

Natasha laughed out loud and curled up around Loki. He sat stiffly even so, and then she looked up at him. "Is something wrong?"

"I had not thought my attentions weren't good enough for you."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I was _joking._ I knew Sam would leave if I said that. He's one of those that are very uncomfortable with displays of public affection." She pulled back and looked at him with a serious expression. "Remember? Nothing without your consent."

"You were asking there."

"If you seriously wanted to try, that would be a different story."

Loki appeared to mull it over. "I don't wish to share you," he said finally in a mulish tone. "I have only just gotten used to this idea."

Natasha snorted and shook her head as she removed her hands from him. At the crestfallen cast to his features, she guessed he missed her touch. "No need to be formal. But sitting back here isn't going to help. Wanda or Steve might wander past at some point, and I gather that you're not into exhibitionism."

"Are you?"

"Only when it was expedient to be," she answered cryptically.

He paused and looked at her curiously as she stood, hand outstretched to him. "I think I understand better now. The clues you've left about yourself, the interactions we've had before you came here. You can help me find a center for myself because you've constantly had to find one. Who you are is always changing to suit the situation." At her nod, he frowned. "But then how do you know who you really are?"

"It all comes down to the choices that you make," she said kindly.

"Is that why you've been doing this?"

"I was where you were, and I'm still where you're at now. It's easier with someone to show you how to start over."

"Your ledger," he murmured. When she nodded again, he ran his hands through his blond hair and let out an unsteady breath. "Does helping me add to the red blood gushing from it or make it bleed black instead?"

"Neither. I haven't had to keep track of it for a long time. I know I've found a balance," she told him simply. "It isn't simple accounting anymore. When you help others on a global scale," she explained at his incredulous expression, "there's no way to tilt it back to red. At least for me," she said with a shrug. "If you keep a ledger, yours might still be edging red."

"I nearly annihilated Jotunheim, I've killed countless Chitauri and sentinels from dozens of worlds. I've manipulated and stolen, lied and subjected myself to horrors," Loki told her simply, expression carefully devoid of emotion. "Even saving Asgard from extinction won't ever tip me into the black of a ledger."

"The Asgardians would disagree."

"They're simple folk, by and large. Hela killed most nobility along with the warriors." Before Natasha could say anything else, his lips twisted as if he tasted something sour. "And she only got there because of me, so those deaths are on my head."

"I'm sure Thor and Heimdall would disagree."

"Then they're fools both."

"I can see why you'd say Thor is a fool, given what he was like as a boy," Natasha said, eyes dancing in amusement as she reached over to lift him to his feet. "Heimdall struck me as a very serious and studious sort."

"He helped save many of the people from Hela," Loki admitted with a sigh, clutching the weaving in his off hand tightly.

"And he also doesn't strike me as the kind of man to praise others lightly."

Loki's gaze skipped past Natasha to the yard behind the house. "Perhaps."

"How they see you is very different from how you see yourself," Natasha said, voice gentle and soothing in a way that he clearly didn't want to accept. "But you have the opportunity to be the man they think you are."

His eyes snapped back at her, and the edge of despair there shuttered. "I can never, if what they see is so lofty as a savior."

"You've never said that?" she asked, eyebrow quirked in query.

"Of course I've _said_ that," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Meaning it is entirely different."

She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "It is. But I never said that you had to think it of yourself, just that you act like it."

"This is how you create your many lives."

Another kiss, this time on his nose. "Exactly. Now, let's get out of here before we're interrupted again." She grasped his hand and tugged as she nodded toward the house. "Your room."

"Very presumptuous, aren't you?"

Natasha leaned in close and grasped his groin through his jeans. "Somehow, I don't think I am," she purred, giving his erection a squeeze.

Loki heaved a sigh and let his eyes close for a moment. "I should finish the spell."

"What does it do?"

"Stores energies for the future, and it can be tapped and released at will."

"Ah... All the knots. Breaking them must release the energy."

He blinked at her in surprise. "What do you know of magic?"

"Just what you've taught Wanda so far," she said with a smile. "But you're describing potential energy, and I'm guessing that undoing the knots will turn it to kinetic energy, just in terms of magical ability."

"You're clever," he said, respect in his gaze. "Perhaps I didn't appreciate it before."

"Oh, I don't think you did," she replied easily, smile still warm. "My skills aren't meant to be so obvious for others to pick up."

Natasha watched him mull that over, then head into the house, tugging her behind him. "I won't underestimate you again," he murmured.

Wanda's "something creepy with magic" that Sam had mentioned involved levitating and rotating items that she had somehow conjured from places outside of the house. She was in the middle of trying to duplicate one while keeping the others slowly rotating in the air, giving the space around her a hazy red appearance.

"Excellent," Loki called out as they passed. Her concentration wavered, making the levitating objects waver and fall about a foot in height, and the duplicated item winked out of existence. She cursed colorfully in Sokovian under her breath, making him chuckle as he led Natasha up the stairway.

"I didn't touch you enough last time," Loki said without preamble once he had Natasha in his bedroom. He turned the lock with his fingers and grinned at her expectantly. "I would rectify that error immediately."

She reached for him and tugged on the hem of his forest green shirt, drawing him closer to where she was standing. "What did you have in mind?"

Loki let her slide a hand beneath his shirt to skim it along his stomach as he stepped in even closer to kiss her on the mouth. It was open, tongue sliding between her lips to trace the edge of her teeth. One of his hands curled at the nape of her neck as the other slid down her back to grasp her ass and pull her flush against him. "Slow," he murmured against her mouth. "Touching and tasting you, making you cry out my name."

"You're still using Loki?"

"Yes. Other names are unsatisfactory," he said, pulling back and removing his hands long enough to draw her shirt up and over her head. "This is who I am, this is who I always will be. I won't be anyone else."

Natasha helped to strip them both down, and he was too impatient to make it into a sexy strip tease. Maybe next time, when this wasn't as new and he wasn't as intense or desperate. Loki still looked at her as if he was starving, as if she was the feast laid out for him to consume.

Being on the receiving end of that look was more pleasurable than she thought it would be.

He ran his hands over her, head bent to kiss her collarbone. She kept her hands in his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Loki all but purred like a cat, nipping and kissing her skin as he slowly moved down the length of her body. Natasha grasped his head tightly in her hands when he took a breast into her mouth, suckling hard. At that point, his hands were on her waist, helping her keep balance as he leaned forward into her, making her back bend backward, swaying closer to his bed. He didn't move her just yet, not when he clearly wanted to suck on her other breast first. With that one, Loki moved one hand down between her legs, exploring with a light and teasing touch, avoiding the ache growing there.

"I crave your taste," he all but growled when he finally let her breast fall from his mouth. He looked up at her, eyes dark with desire. She nodded at him and pushed down on his shoulder, but he wasn't about to let her set the pace. Slowly, he kissed his way down her torso as he edged her back toward the bed.

Once she was sprawled across the edge of his bed, Loki sank to his knees and settled between her thighs. He licked and kissed his way up to her red curls, then began to explore her with his tongue. She wasn't quite wet yet, but his tongue more than made up for that. Loki licked into her, traced swirls and almost runic patterns against her clit, and he sucked on it lightly as he slid a finger into her tight channel. Natasha tried to reach down to grasp him by the hair, but he backed up and didn't allow that. Huffing out a breath in annoyance, she had to settle to cupping her own breasts and flicking her nipples, still damp and sensitive from his mouth.

Loki drove his tongue against her clit as he worked another finger into her, then began to slide them in and out. Natasha let her eyes close, losing herself in the sensation of his mouth and fingers exactly where she wanted them to be.

He didn't stop when he made her come with a keening cry. Natasha writhed beneath his mouth, but he slid his fingers out of her and then grasped her hips to keep them still. He continued to work her with lips and tongue, and her body had nothing to clench down on. She gasped and pinched her own nipples, a low whine deep in her throat. That wasn't enough for him, not when he was humming in delight and making appreciative noises at the taste of her.

After her second orgasm, she hissed and tried to push his head away. She felt oversensitive and strung out, limbs trembling. It was like electricity arcing through her, making her moan with reckless abandon. Loki only chuckled, the bastard, and continued licking into her. His touch was a little gentler at least, as if he understood that it was too much, too soon, that her body was about to revolt from this much pleasure. She was close, hovering on the edge of another orgasm when he finally pulled his mouth back. "Thank God," she murmured, breath leaving her in a ragged whoosh.

Chuckling, Loki rose to his feet. "Oh yes, I am your God," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief as he lined up his weeping cock with her wet slit. He didn't tease her anymore, at least, but slid home, making her groan in pleasure. She clenched down hard around him, and squeezed her own breasts again. His strokes were long and slow, drawing it out, and he held her thighs up at his waist. It felt like he was trying to anchor her, trying to make sure she couldn't wriggle backward and gain some respite from the pleasure. His thrusts grew shorter and faster, deep inside of her and making her groan.

Even after he came, he continued to thrust into her. Warmth flowed through her and around where they were joined. Natasha cracked an eye open and looked down at where his cock was driving into her. Reddish gold magic suffused their skin, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight. "Need it to stay hard?" she teased.

His gaze was that same intensity as before. "Yes. I'm not done with you yet." It was a promise, not a threat, and she let go of a breast to reach down and grasp his wrist. "You object?" he asked, still thrusting into her.

"Not at all," Natasha gasped. "Give it all to me."

He grinned, looking almost feral and crazed, hips snapping against hers. It felt slick and slippery inside of her, and there were obscene squelching noises. She grinned back, fingers tightening on his wrist. "Harder," she gasped.

She groaned and let her head fall back as he did, hard and fast and so deep inside of her that the pleasure seemed to fill up her entire body. It was intense, enough that she felt like she could shatter from it, but the magic seemed to hold her together. When she released her breasts, feeling exhausted, mouth dry from panting, Loki turned her slightly so that one of her legs lay off the edge of the bed and the other was lifted up against him, her ankle against his ear. Loki leaned in to adjust the angle of his thrusts, her leg sliding against his shoulder. He moved just as fast as before, and now his groin rubbed against her sensitive clit as he thrust into her. Natasha nearly howled in desire as she reached out to grab him one hand, her other grasping his coverlet. He was deep, all the way in, balls slapping against her with each thrust, and she clenched down tight around his cock.

When he finally stilled, shuddering and shivering, too tired to continue, Natasha felt as though her bones had been turned to jelly. Loki had to move her on top of his bed, and he rested his weight on his forearms as he laid above her, covering her body with his. His eyes danced merrily as he looked down at her sprawled body, slick with sweat and her thighs smeared with his come and her fluids. "We're going to be sore in the morning," he murmured, not sounding sorry about that in the slightest.

"Worth it," she replied with a weary grin.

The weaving he had been working on, forgotten until now, lifted up off the floor when he twitched his fingers in their direction. It rose up and expanded, the light around it more gold than red now. The runic pattern was easier to discern now, and the fabric settled over their bodies like a heavy winter comforter.

"What does that mean?" Natasha murmured sleepily, lifting her arms enough to wind them around his shoulders and pull him down.

His weight settled comfortably on top of her. "Protection," he murmured, turning his head to kiss her temple tenderly. 

"Always something worth having."

"Or giving," Loki agreed, threading his hands through hers.

***  
***


	11. Behind the Shadows

It wasn't difficult for Natasha to convince Loki to shower with her; the room seemed to create an elaborate master bathroom as he was deciding on it. She grinned at him and then made a beeline to the door as it appeared. The bathroom was done up in similar marbled walls and floor, with a large sunken tub that looked as though it had Jacuzzi nozzles, a separate shower stall more than large enough for the two of them, toilet and double sink. The mirror above the sink took up the entire wall, practically, and Natasha looked up as Loki hovered in the doorway. He seemed almost hesitant, nervous for her approval. She smiled at him and half turned to extend her hand in his direction. "Come on, then."

The tub would be a luxurious soak for another time, she was going to follow up with that promise of a shower together. There were marbled tiles for the shower as well, and even the shelves built into the corner of the stall were pure marble. "You have a thing for stone, huh?" she teased, starting the water.

Loki lifted his chin. "I rather enjoy the aesthetic."

She only grinned at him and pulled him into the stall beside her. "It'll be cold when I push you up against it."

"Or I hold _you_ there," he taunted, twisting in place so that he all but towered over her, crowding into her space so that her back was against the tile.

Natasha tugged on his shoulders, making him bend down so she could capture his mouth. "Let's see if you can keep me here," she said in between kisses.

Hot water coming down all around them, Loki's hands roamed all over her body as he kissed her, tongue sliding into her mouth. She slid her hands across his back, cupped his ass, trailed her fingers down the backs of his thighs. In between all of the touching, they were getting thoroughly soaked. Loki reached out for the shelves when he tried to catch his breath, and now they were full of various bath products that Natasha was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. She lifted an eyebrow in query at him, but he only grinned and poured some of her favorite scented shampoo into his hands.

Turning around, she tilted her head back so that he could lather up her hair. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and felt as though she was being worked on at an upscale salon. She hummed and purred, reaching behind her to run her hand over whatever she could reach. Loki chuckled, pleased at how much she was enjoying his touch and all but leaning into her.

"Which one for you?" she asked when he slowed down the scrubbing and scalp massage.

Loki pointed to his, which looked more like a jar of homemade formula. It had the same consistency as shampoo, so it was easy enough to scoop some out and rub it onto his scalp in a similar manner that he had done for her. His smile was fond as he fondled her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples. As she massaged the shampoo into the nape of his neck, he leaned down further to kiss her.

Her body wash and a poof materialized as she was rinsing out her hair and he was already getting ready to lather her up. Loki grinned at her chuckle, and used the poof to caress her. Natasha's hands were caught up in her own hair, so she arched her back and tilted her head, giving him easier access to her torso. Instead, his free hand dipped down to touch her hip, then moved to between her legs, fingering her clit. Natasha sucked in a breath and shifted slightly, making it easier for him to finger her.

"So eager for me," he murmured.

"I appreciate talent when I see it," she purred, smiling at him.

He chuckled, and moved to scrub her back as he continued fingering her. Natasha grasped his shoulders, bringing him in for a kiss. Loki knew how to touch her the way she liked it already, and she knew that letting her hands roam across his body was a sensation he could never get enough of.

As Natasha came in his arms, Loki held her steady. She was shaking, nearly slipping in the soapy water around their feet, and the cradling made her feel safe and steady. Her fingers dug in tight on his shoulders as she caught her breath.

Loki appreciated her reciprocating, lathering him down and stroking his cock as she worked on his chest and arms. Winking at him, she indicated that he should turn around. Though he seemed a bit put out, he followed her direction easily enough. Natasha leaned up against him, breasts pressed into his back as she reached around him to stroke his cock. He breathed an "Ah" of pleasure and relief, making her laugh. She scrubbed his sides and the backs of his thighs, then between his legs. Pressing kisses against his back, she twisted her grip on the poof so that she could run her fingers over the slopes of his flesh, then traced the curve of his balls. Loki groaned in pleasure, so she traced the space up and back, until she got to the tight ring of muscle. He tensed, all of the playfulness gone from his body.

Natasha removed her hands and placed them securely on his hips. "Loki?" she asked, drawing her head back a bit to take in the stooped posture of his shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, it's... That's not something generally approved in Asgardian culture."

"Oh," Natasha murmured, nonplused. She rubbed his hips soothingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I was just thinking that your body might be like human ones, and there's a spot that can feel really good if I get to it..."

"Uh. Yeah. It's there. Um..." Loki's breath hitched. "Yes, I know."

"There's a story there," Natasha commented when he fell silent. "And not a good one, I'm guessing," she added when he remained silent.

"I did what I had to do to survive." He turned, expression grave and eyes heavy. "I should've died. I didn't. I had nothing but lies, manipulation and my body."

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "And you survived it. So every moment you're here is a testament to how strong your spirit really is."

Loki's lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "Of all people, you would never condemn me for the things that I've done."

"I've probably done them all myself," she replied dryly, shrugging.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?"

"That I'm tainted?"

Natasha snorted. "For knowing that something people might think is dirty feels good?" She rolled her eyes. "There's a whole kink around doing the shit that feels good that you think shouldn't. I'd never judge."

He blew out a slow breath. "Ah. Well. Thank you. Don't say anything?"

"About what?" she asked in a patently false innocent tone.

It had the desired effect of having Loki smile in relief and run his hands down her arms. "Let me know if you ever want to try it again," she murmured, a saucy smile on her face. "No pressure, but I find that facing horrible things makes it lose its power over you. Plus, I bet I can erase whatever memories you have and replace them with new ones," she added with a sensual smile, fingers moving up and down his sides.

"I'll think about it," Loki murmured, and she didn't think he'd take her up on it.

Pulling him down for a kiss, she smiled against his mouth. "Now, where were we?"

Loki ran his fingers along the undersides of her arms, then down to her waist, tickling her. "I believe," he began, drawing one hand up to grasp hers and draw it back down to his cock, which had flagged a bit. "You were here."

Giving him a gentle squeeze, she gave him a lazy smile. "I think I remember now."

"Yes, that right there," he said, breath hitching as her palm slid over the head of his cock. "That, more of that."

Natasha kissed him as she worked his cock, her other hand at the nape of his neck and kneading the skin gently. Loki made soft whining noises, his hands tight on her hips as he thrust against her hand. She could feel the tension in him building, so she broke the kiss long enough to say "Let go, Loki. I've got you. I've got you."

He spurted against her hand as the tension bled out of him, and he dipped his head down to the side of her neck, forehead against her shoulder. She carried his weight against her as promised, and massaged his shoulder until his breathing steadied.

The beautiful thing about this magicked bathroom was that the hot water didn't run out through all of this. Loki still shivered in her arms, heaved a sigh after a moment. "I suppose I should try whatever else you have in mind for me," he said in a soft voice.

Turning her head to nip at his earlobe, Natasha soothed his back and made a soft noise. "A nap sounds like an excellent idea right now."

Jerking his head up to stare at her in surprise, Loki blinked water out of his eyes. "But—"

"There's no rush for anything," she reminded him. She reached up to caress his cheek. "Don't say you want to do it just because you feel pressured to it. That's not any fun." She let her fingers trail down the side of his neck, and rested her palm on his chest. "There's time. I can always play with you," she purred, reaching down to stroke his limp cock, "fuck you breathless, maybe let you fuck me, maybe get some toys to play with you."

Loki made a soft questioning noise, then grasped her shoulders. "What do you mean?" he said finally, a vulnerable cast to his features.

"Never play with toys? We should try that, then," she said with a smile. Reaching around him, she shut off the water. "C'mon, let's dry off." She wagged the fingers of both hands in front of his face playfully. "I'm getting all pruney."

"You are quite a puzzle," he murmured, watching her step out of the shower.

Natasha looked at him over her shoulder with a coy expression. "Thank you," she purred, because of course that would be a compliment.

Feeling more like his old self, Loki was determined to figure out the puzzle of her after all.

***

Wanda was looking a little less fearsome when Loki and Natasha went back downstairs together, though she was still manipulating multiple blocks in swirling patterns. Sam was pacing back and forth in the living room in an agitated manner, and Steve was on the couch with newspapers spread out in front of him on the coffee table.

"Something happen?" Natasha asked, approaching them first. She was in a different outfit than she had been wearing earlier, at least; the magic of the house had provided her with some closet space in Loki's room, as well as a drawer in his dresser full of underwear and matching bras. She hadn't questioned its presence, since the house seemed to provide all of them with whatever they needed whenever they needed it. That had to be it, it couldn't be more than that.

"Maybe the better question is what _isn't_ happening," Sam said, still pacing.

Natasha tilted her head to the side. "What? What do you mean by that?"

"We made a couple of trips out," Sam said, paces becoming a little jerkier. "We got supplies, some books, the newspaper, that kinda thing. Right?" He turned at the end of his line in time to see Natasha's impatient nod and Loki's frown. "Yeah, well, I've been getting papers every time we go out. Test my Swedish, you know?"

She made a circular "hurry up" gesture with her hands. "And?"

"They're the same."

"It's probably not too surprising," Natasha began with a shrug. "I don't imagine there are too many newspapers out there—"

"Same date," Steve interrupted. He leaned forward and made a sweeping gesture across the newspapers spread out in front of him.

"Not just the same headlines, or the journalist names," Sam said, coming to a halt in front of them, a strange expression on his face. He wasn't afraid, not exactly, but he was far outside of his comfort zone just then. "The dates are the same. The ads, the everything. Every time we leave this place, we're in the same place and time in the city."

The blocks that Wanda was working with looked like the alphabet blocks a toddler might play with. They spun lazily in response to her hand movements, and then she suddenly clapped her hands together as if in prayer. Every last block smashed into each other, shattering into splinters that dissolved into red motes of energy. Sam jumped and shot her an irritated look, and Steve flinched as he turned in her direction.

"I don't know why you're so upset," she said, voice firm. "You knew this place was built of magic that had ripped out the core of him. You could hear our lessons quite well, even if you couldn't make use of them yourself. Arranging time and space and fate are difficult to do, yet this place has done nothing but that."

Loki had reached out to grasp the railing to the stairs to steady himself, and his gaze went from Wanda's fiercely protective expression to Steve's thoughtful one. Sam was afraid of the house, of the situation, of not knowing what would come next. Not of Loki, of that he could tell, but of a position he wouldn't be able to fight back from.

"Every time we leave the protections woven into this place, we reenter the world we left in the same place we first came to it. Why is that so frightening?" Wanda demanded. "You were glad enough to escape being caught. You don't want to go back to the Raft!"

"None of us want to go back," Sam said, voice firm and gaze heavy as he contemplated Loki. "But if magic can fail, if someone can be drained so dry it's gone, don't you think that can happen to a place? Don't you think it could all fall apart while we're in here? And then what happens to all of us?" he said as Loki's grip tightened on the railing, knuckles turning white as he tried to keep his balance. "Do we disappear with it?" Sam continued. "Do we die because the magic collapses on us?"

"His magic is coming back," Wanda pointed out. "You saw it."

Steve stood from the couch, newspapers in his hands. Walking to the stairway, he lifted them for Loki to see for himself. "They're the same. Same stall in the market, same water marks on the page in the corner."

"Perhaps they changed once here," Loki said, his voice sounding thin and far away to his own ears. He didn't think he was terribly convincing, especially when his knees felt wobbly and he was slowly collapsing down to sit on the steps. "We don't _know_ for certain."

"You said this was a palace outside of time." Natasha turned and then sat down on the step beside him, taking his free hand in both of hers. It was comforting, but the warmth of their shared shower was all gone now.

Loki nodded. "I built it outside of space and time."

"So while we're here, there is no time. There is, but there isn't," Wanda said, frustrated by the continued fear in Sam's demeanor. "It's magic, that kind of thing can happen."

"But you didn't answer me, Loki," Sam said, looking at him with a firmer voice. It wasn't that he was angry, exactly, but the frustration and fear were only too evident. Loki had heard it in his own voice far too many times. "What happens when the magic runs out?"

"It doesn't."

"Doesn't what? Run out? Yours did."

"It makes sense now why it would," Loki said, eyes sliding shut, chin lifting up a fraction. "I remember the casting, the intention. It felt like a tearing, like I poured too much of myself into the foundations." He opened his eyes and looked at Sam with an earnest expression. "The foundations are set firmly. There is no way to unravel when they're anchored into the world and the branches of Yggdrasil themselves." His shoulders turned inward and his chin dropped that fraction it had lifted. "I have done many wrongs in my lifetime, shattered many things that were never meant to break. But I would not do this wrongly. I would not twist the shape of all I learned just to trap myself inside it."

Sam blew out a breath. "Okay. So we're not going to go poof and die." Loki nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. "The thought is still creepy as fuck."

"Why?"

"Nothing we do sticks, then. No consequences, no nothing."

Loki shook his head. "It's not that. This is an escape. This home is a place to rest, to heal." He paused, as if he had only just realized what he meant by that. "I didn't come here to try to learn to be someone else. I came here because I needed to know how to be myself again."

"Meaning what?" Steve asked, voice surprisingly gentle.

"I can't stay here forever, as much as I wanted to in the beginning."

Natasha squeezed his hands between hers. "If time doesn't exist here, then there's no rush."

"But I can't stay," he said in a defeated tone, blowing out a breath.

"If you say you can't," Wanda began uncertainly.

Lifting his hand from the railing, he tilted it palm up. Golden tendrils of light curled up and formed there, much in the same way the scarlet magic welled up when Wanda called it. "I had to hide this for a long time. Far too long." His eyes lifted from the golden magic lazily wafting in the hollow of his palm. "I should own it."

"You have a lot of memories in the dark," Steve said quietly. "It's a lot to face."

"You all face yours," Loki said. "Difficult as it is, I think that's easier for me than to become someone else. I can't do it," he said, turning to face Natasha. "I carry too much of myself inside my skin. I can't escape it, not even for a moment."

"It's your choices that matter, Loki," she said quietly.

"I see that now." He closed his palm into a fist, snuffing out the light. It suffused his skin instead, and he looked at it with an almost melancholy expression. "I didn't understand that before."

"So what is it now that made it click?" Sam asked, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side as he contemplated Loki. "Knowing that we're outside of time? I don't get it. How is that something to point the way for you?"

"Because I could never do that before," Loki said simply, opening his hand. In his palm was a golden key, fashioned like the ornate skeleton keys of Victoriana or horror movies. "The magic has different energies, different purposes. The kind of magic that would create something like this, the _spá,_ it had always been too difficult to maneuver. The manipulations and the illusions of the _seiðr_ come easily, but to manipulate fate? Ah, it's too intricate, too many paths that it can take, the cascading elements that could create new paths, realities that could be created or violated with a single thought?"

He sighed as he shook his head and then closed his fingers over the key. His skin shone gold for a moment, and then there were identical skeleton keys in his palm.

"It takes patience and subtlety, and I had not been a creature of much patience. Subtlety, when the need called for it, perhaps, but to wait for what I wanted, to let things fall where they may in accordance to the laws of fate? Ah, I couldn't stomach it." He extended his hand outward, so that each of them could take a key.

"We already have keys to the front door, man," Sam said, reluctantly taking one from Loki's palm. "What's this for?"

"If we are friends after a fashion," Loki began, voice small and thready, "then you need to be able to come and go even if I've left. I don't know if the keys I gave you before would still work if I leave this place. But that? That is made of the same stuff as this location. It's anchored, keyed to this time and place and the people here."

Wanda took one and peered at hers closely as Steve and Natasha each took a golden key. She traced the edge of the teeth with a finger, nail polish already chipped. When it vanished in a flash, golden energy pressing into her skin, she yelped.

"So all of you can return whenever and wherever you wish," Loki told them in a small voice after each of the keys vanished, the skin of their hand carrying a faint golden glow. "You can leave if you like, reenter time. And you can return whenever you like, with or without stopping the flow of time, whatever works best for your needs."

"Why are you acting as if we're heading out the door right now?" Steve asked, golden hand tightening into a fist against his chest, as if he could press the magic into his heart.

"Aren't you going to?" Loki asked, shoulders slumped in defeat? "There's nothing I can give you now. Our deal is done, Natasha. I cannot be someone else, so there is no deal."

Natasha picked up his hand and brought the back of it to her lips. "So there's no deal." She shrugged and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. "We can stay as long as we need to, as long as you need us to."

"But the deal—"

"You needed there to be an angle," Natasha said, a sad smile on her lips. "So I created one." She shrugged again, his hand still pressed to her cheek. "But there doesn't have to be one. There never did, I meant that."

"Friendship isn't accounting. Real friendship isn't, anyway," Sam corrected. He looked over at Steve with a rueful expression. "That one over there would owe me _so much_ if we had to do some accounting, and all your seized assets won't even cover it."

Steve gave Sam a scoffing snort. "Fuck you, Sam."

Sam shot him the middle finger and a wide grin. "I'm right here, baby, have at it."

Wanda rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Testosterone bullshit."

Natasha laughed and leaned into Loki. "Meaning," she told him, eyes dancing in the face of his confused expression, "we're not leaving just yet."

"Like dangerous, toxic mold, that one," Sam continued, pointing at Steve. "Grows on you and is liable to kill your ass."

"Hey, you had every option to walk away..." Steve cried, pointing at him incredulously.

Shooting Loki a playfully conspiratorial look, Sam grinned. "But I do everything he does, only slower, you know? Walking away isn't an option."

"It isn't for any of us." Natasha smiled at Loki and then leaned in to kiss his cheek. "So I guess you're stuck with us as long as you can take it."

"There is darkness at times," Loki began with a sigh.

"As there is for all of us," Wanda said, a sad note to her voice. "That doesn't frighten us."

Loki thought back to their lessons, to the outbursts she'd had, the losses she'd suffered. He knew some of Natasha's, maybe some of Steve's, hardly anything about Sam. But they were all on the run, and would rather stay in the wind than submit to laws they felt were unjust and unworthy of their efforts.

Which also meant they thought he was a just and worthy person to spend time with.

It was a humbling thought, one that sent a sharp pain through his chest even as he felt suffused with warmth. "No," he said, mirroring her melancholy tone with his smile. "I don't suppose that it would. Perhaps we're all right where we should be."

***  
***


	12. Circling The Flame

The yard was larger than it had been, doubled and tripled the length it had once been. Loki was dressed in black skinny jeans and nothing else, his pale skin exposed to the summer sun and his blond hair wavy, down past his chin tilted up to the sky. His eyes were closed, lips parted only a fraction, as if he could taste the air. A faint golden shimmer seemed to hover beneath the pale skin, and it seemed to take on a bluish cast. As it did so, the blond darkened as well. His nails were still darkened with chipped nail polish, but they seemed to lengthen, become almost like claws at the end of his fingers.

Loki lifted his arms up to the side, and the slight changes in his body reversed back into the form he had been using since he chose to hide on earth. He opened his eyes, and there was a golden glow there, a hint of green, and his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

"Is that a magical salute to the sun?" Natasha asked, lips quirking up into a smile.

That gold-green-blue gaze was directed at her, no more thousand yard stare to peer through. "I can feel the magic sinking into my bones." His smile was genuine, the sparkle in his eyes metaphoric as well as literal. "It's anchoring into me again."

Natasha watched as he lifted one hand, a ball of light forming in the center of his palm. "What will you do with it?"

The ball of light turned into a flickering flame, bright as torch light. "There may not be much that would be accepted from me, but I suppose I should try just the same," he said, eyes sliding from her face to the flame in his palm. "It might hurt to be seen. To be known."

"But it might be the good kind."

He looked up at her words curiously. "The good kind."

"It's always a choice whether a skill is used to hurt or heal. Knives can cut someone apart to kill them, or to remove a tumor."

"Ah. You think this would be a surgeon's knife."

"If you want this to be. If you want to find a place here and pay back the losses people suffered."

"A weregild of sorts."

"I suppose," Natasha agreed, nodding slowly.

Loki looked at her closely, lifting his hands. They glowed gold, and there was a pressure around her as if she was being lifted up from the porch steps to her feet. The ghostly pressure pushed her toward him, giving her something solid to stand on so that they were at eye level. "Where will you be while I pay this weregild?"

"Operating out of the shadows, where I was always meant to be. I wasn't meant to be part of the world, Loki. I know how to live in that space."

He took in her matter of fact tone and let his gaze wander across her face. He leaned in for a moment, brushing his lips across hers. "And if I want you to live in _my_ space?"

She smiled, slow and sincere. "Then we'll have to see how that will work."

"I don't know how _I_ would work, if I would truly be welcome on this world." He lifted a hand to trace the curve of her cheek. "But if I could be, I would like to continue working with you." His mouth quirked up in the corner. "Who knows what terrible atrocities I might commit without someone to watch over me?"

Natasha laughed and tugged on a curl of his blond hair. "As if that could truly rein you in if you didn't want to be."

"Oh, I don't know. Your little witch has considerable power."

"We all have our strengths."

"That we do." He paused, the teasing smile sliding off his face. "Would you stay? If you could? If I could manage such a thing for you?"

"I'd stay close," Natasha hedged. "We'd still be on the move, after all." She let her fingers trail down from his hair to his lips. "But I'm not opposed to that."

"We can't say it outright, can we?" he asked, a slight tick at the corner of his mouth.

"It's fair to say we've both been burned by our pasts, maybe literally." A flicker in his eyes, a slight tightening in the muscles that he couldn't help, but she didn't do much more than note it. She cupped his face with her hands, and leaned her forehead against his. "So if we don't say anything, there's nothing to clarify. There's nothing to deny, if need be."

"But there is also so much uncertainty."

"Yes. But that's less painful to live with, isn't it?"

Loki blew out a slow breath. "I suppose."

"It sounds like you're ready to meet with Thor."

Natasha plopped down to the floorboards abruptly, but the impact didn't send her sprawling. Loki turned away from her, hands thrown up in exasperation, a gesture that seemed distinctly more like Sam in that moment. "Maybe? I don't know. I used to think I know what I wanted, but it all fell apart. Now I don't know if I can share control with him."

She snorted and strode forward to wrap her arms around him. "Yes, you can. Because he would be the face that everyone went to. I can see you laughing behind his back when he stumbles, then rushing to help him because no one else can make fun of him but you."

"That's always been my purview," Loki agreed, sounding rather mulish.

"I'm told it's a sibling thing," Natasha said. "And whatever else happened, you two still care about each other, and you still want the best for each other."

"Maybe."

"And you miss him."

"Oh, I do _not!"_ Loki cried, spinning around and looking at her indignantly.

"You miss what you had, then," Natacha corrected, lifting her hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "Because of how you told the stories from when you were kids."

Pursing his lips for a moment, he finally nodded and let his gaze skip past her. "Perhaps."

"He's not the type to understand you, though. Love you? Sure. He's kind of overwhelming with it sometimes," Natasha continued. He snapped his gaze back at her, staring intently. Oh, it felt sharp and deep inside his chest then, the feeling of being _known,_ of finally having someone that could _understand_ even a small piece of the mess he had hidden away for so long. It was comfortable and frightening and too much to deal with at once, and he couldn't help but reach out for her.

She grasped his hand without breaking eye contact and lifted it to her lips, pressing them against his knuckles. "No matter what, though, you won't be alone."

Loki cradled her cheek with his free hand. "Thank you," he murmured. "And no matter what, I will make sure all of you are safe."

***

The halls of New Asgard were obviously brand new, chrome and marble, clearly a melding of Asgardian culture and the hypermodern style that Tony Stark loved to play with. Instead of a formidable castle of stone and gold, the palace was instead accented in glass and steel. It wasn't nearly as large as the one that had been on Asgard, but certainly seemed as grand as any of the castles that still studded Scandinavia and Europe. The closest castle that Natasha knew of that seemed similar to the New Asgard capital was Peles Castle in Romania, a colorful concoction that looked like it was lifted straight out of a book of fairy tales. Instead of dark wood and stained glass windows, this castle was steel and reinforced plate glass, almost like Stark's Malibu home had been before its destruction.

If Thor meant to continue as he started, a blend of old and new was certainly the way to go.

The grand entrance led to a long hallway with several ballrooms and small reception salons on either side of it. The actual throne room was on the floor above, elegant spiral staircases of spun glass tinted gold leading up from the end of the hallway below to the receiving room just outside the massive mahogany doors inlaid with silver and mosaic tiles. It showed the Asgard of old, the Observatory and rainbow bridge linking it to the palace and surrounding lands, all green and in the prime of everyone's memories.

Natasha led the way up the spiral stairs, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Loki following in her wake. It didn't bother her that she would be taking the lead on this, as Thor had issued the invitation to her first. _Bring anyone you need to,_ he had said when she called. She could hear the hope in his voice, that Loki would come out of hiding and join him in the palace. _I can't wait to see you and everyone else. We can really build something here._

He certainly hadn't been kidding. The rest of the throne room wasn't quite as elaborate as the doorway or the lower floor, clearly indicating where the decorating priority had been. Tapestries lined the walls, though they seemed to be generic ones that people would find in shops if they were looking for things with Nordic influence. Between the tapestries, the walls were simple pale marble with light gray veining, no ornaments or carvings of any kind.

"You've been busy," she said with a grin as Thor stepped down from the ornate throne that his people had carved out of stone, trying to fashion it to look like Odin's. Unlike Odin's, which had been rather uncomfortable, this one had padding in gold brocade added to it.

"Feels like all I've done is work. Or talk. Are there battles to be fought?" he asked with a bit of a teasing lilt. "I'd almost rather engage in war."

"That sounds like the brother I know," Loki murmured.

Thor looked over at him, then really _looked_ past the blond curls and ordinary appearance that he had arrived with. He brightened, beaming and looking as though he could literally light up the throne room, rushing to Loki's side to give him a hug.

Loki stood there stiffly at first, surprise clearly etched on his features, and he looked over at the others with an almost comical expression. Natasha gestured in their direction in an impatient gesture, Steve spread his hands wide as if to say "What did you think was going to happen?" and Sam mouthed "Hug him back!" Wanda shook her head and smiled at Loki in something akin to wry disappointment, as if she had a feeling he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Releasing a long, slow breath, he hugged Thor back, patting him a few times as his lips pulled into something like a grimace. "Ah. Yes. Hugging."

Finally, Thor let him go, still beaming. "You've returned, then. Thank you."

"For coming back?" Loki scoffed.

"Well, yes," Thor told him earnestly, eyes wide. He was leaning a little toward Loki, but not in a glowering or menacing kind of way. Natasha could tell that he was just so eager to talk to him, to see him again, but that same eagerness could very well push Loki away again.

"Let's sit, then," Natasha interjected smoothly. "Maybe somewhere less formal?"

"Oh, of course! There's a conference suite right behind the throne. Far more private."

The suite behind the throne could only be reached through a door cleverly hidden behind the marble tiling on the wall in between tapestries. Loki grudgingly nodded his approval at it, and took a seat near the door, farthest from Thor at the credenza. He was too busy pouring out red wine for everyone to notice initially, but his smile slipped when he turned around to give Loki a glass and he wasn't there to receive it. "I hear tell it's a good vintage," he offered, pushing the smile back into place, "and I thought I'd wait to share it with you."

"I suppose I could oblige you," Loki sighed, rolling his eyes and getting up to accept the glass of wine. "If it's truly that special."

"So I was told. And I'd rather wait and discover such a thing with my brother."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Are you truly this maudlin?"

"We've lost a lot, Loki," Thor said mildly, continuing to hand out glasses. "We all grieve in our own ways," he continued, and Wanda shot Loki a disappointed look, then flicked her eyes from Loki to Thor in a gesture that clearly meant _say something!_

Heaving another sigh, Loki sipped the wine. "Quite floral and sweet. I appreciate that."

Thor beamed again, as if it was a compliment directed at him personally. "You'll be staying on in New Asgard, yes? You're still welcome to stay if you wish it."

"This world may not have me." Loki took another delicate sip and sat down in a chair next to Natasha. He managed not to sigh when Thor sat down on his other side.

"They don't quite like us right now," Steve pointed out.

Nodding thoughtfully, Thor tossed back the rest of the wine in his glass and then put it aside. He looked at Steve, mouth quirking up in the corner. "New look."

Steve shrugged and nodded at Natasha. "Just enough of a change so we're not so obvious."

"We have not and will not sign the Sokovian Accords," Thor said flatly. "When the American government and those toadies on the international governance board tried to push their agenda, I made it clear that I won't follow their lead on this."

"I do hope you were diplomatic about it," Natasha said.

"Is it diplomatic to call the Secretary of State an ignoble coward hiding behind the sacrifices of others?" Thor asked, nearly smiling in amusement.

Loki chuckled. "I think I would've liked to have seen that."

"That is a game far better suited to you," Thor said with a rueful shake of his head. "Heimdall was quite disappointed in me, but I did remind him that the Secretary walked away with his head still on his shoulders and his dignity otherwise intact."

"He's gonna remember that," Sam said thoughtfully. He nodded in Natasha's direction. "Part of him getting as high up in power as he did is because that one there essentially told Congress to fuck off and kiss her ass because they're all useless dicks."

"To be fair, they are," Natasha said, not appearing sorry in the slightest.

"Not disagreeing with you," Sam pointed out. "Just laying out the politics for Thor here. He didn't have to know about that before, but now it's something that might be a factor."

"It will anger him that we're being harbored in your country," Wanda murmured. "He seemed rather smug about having us all arrested and locked away in prison."

"You might not be Asgardian, but I would happily offer you sanctuary in my country," Thor said, sitting up a little straighter. "We can possibly do this paperwork, right? Transfer your citizenship away from that awful man?"

"It's not the citizenship that's the problem, it's the way he wants to enforce the laws and how much he wants to take control over everyone," Steve pointed out. "It's fear. I refuse to be victim to someone else's prejudice and fear, and I will never back down from doing what's right just because he thinks it's not politically expedient."

"Then I would also be opposed to this man," Thor said gravely. "For such an attitude is not worthy, and is not the example I wish to set before the people. There are few enough role models for them to look up to. Heimdall and Valkyrie are probably the best ones."

"You don't count yourself?" Loki asked in surprise, eyebrow lofted.

Thor shook his head. "I could have been better. I could have seen what was coming when I defeated Surtur, when I revealed your disguise for what it was. I didn't think, I didn't plan ahead at any point. It was all reaction, and I want better for them than that."

"Planning ahead was never your strong suit."

"It was always yours," Thor murmured. He stared at Loki pointedly, until he looked away with an uncomfortable grimace. "Loki. If you stay, would you do this? Would you advise me on the politics and maneuvering their laws for the good of our people?"

Loki snapped his gaze to Thor's. "You'd trust me to rule?"

"You did it for five years. Asgard didn't burn until I returned and wrested control from Hel."

He snorted and shook his head. "I suppose if you look at it that way..."

"You have patience for such things, and from what I've seen of the people and what they've told me of life on Asgard, it was peaceful. For that, I thank you. And the people would thank you, if you let them know of your return."

"They would not decry me as a traitor and villain?"

"Much has changed," Thor said quietly, shaking his head. "Everything is new, and for New Asgard, I would erase whatever debts you would owe us. Your actions, even if under false pretenses, were for the good of the people. You were everything you said you would be if rule had been given over to you."

"Perhaps you forgive me and would refuse weregild," Loki began slowly, eyes locked onto Thor's expression with a wary one of his own, "but I doubt that Midgard would. I would think that they would want to extract a hefty price for me to pay out in blood."

Steve, Sam and Wanda had watched the conversation as if it was a tennis match, and Natasha had merely sat back to quietly finish her glass of wine. She held it out, and Thor unthinkingly poured her another glass.

"Weregild aside," she said as Thor poured, "the important question is this, Loki: do you want to stay in New Asgard? Do you want to be seen and known for who you are?"

Loki stared at her, lips pressed tightly together. His eyes betrayed a measure of unhappiness, likely at being pushed, but he finally heaved a breath and nodded. "I wish to stay. I already know you'll have me, because you're an idiot that way."

"You're my brother."

"Like I said," Loki told him dryly, "you're an idiot."

"You have a talent with words I don't wish to learn. You plan, and you have a great capacity to care for others, even if you don't wish it known." Thor's observation seemed to rattle Loki, who put the wine glass down on the credenza a little too hard, but not quite hard enough to break it at the stem. "There will always be a place for you in Asgard," Thor continued earnestly, "even if you don't wish to be our Ambassador to Earth."

"What place would that be?" he scoffed.

"Part of the royal family," Thor said, shrugging.

"In those countries that have a royal family," Natasha interrupted, "they often have some purpose in state, or do ceremonial offices for special occasions and do their own thing the rest of the time. So it really is your choice if you want to be in the spotlight or not."

"Would you all be here?" he temporized.

"Thor already offered citizenship," Steve pointed out. "I don't think I'll take you up on it," he added, facing Thor, "but thank you for the offer."

Sam and Wanda were nodding along with Steve, and Natasha kept her gaze on Loki. "You won't be alone," she promised. "You won't ever be alone."

With all of their eyes on him, Loki's shoulders sagged and he shut his eyes. "I suppose you'd be lost without my expertise," he muttered.

"Quite so," Thor said, leaning forward to clasp Loki's hands in his. He squeezed them, and he grinned when Loki's eyes snapped open. "We're better side by side."

"And these friends?" Loki prompted.

"Royal suites in the palace, of course," Thor said, grinning. "Only the best for our friends. They are more like family to us, aren't they?"

Pausing a moment, Loki nodded. "Yes, they are. So I guess I'll stay."

This time, he didn't stiffen or freeze when Thor swept him up into a tight hug.

***  
***


	13. Pas de Deux

It must have been an Asgardian thing to be surrounded by so much stone and gilt, even when suites were pared down and not as formally beautified as the royal suites should have been. That might have been an affront on Asgard, but joking about it being a step up from shared one star hotel rooms only made Thor feel sorry for them. "You deserve so much more than what this world had given you," he told them gravely. "I know we are but a new nation and still building up our place in this world, but I would argue against the poor choices made in the Sokovian Accords. You should not be vigilantes!" He turned to Natasha and laid a hand heavily on her shoulder. "I have looked into the matter as much as I was able, but I doubt it was truly enough to understand the nuance of it."

"You're building a country for the people," Steve had said diplomatically. "You're busy enough as it is, I don't expect you to bend over backward for us."

"Perhaps it's time someone did," Thor replied, mirroring his shrug.

Natasha's suite was down the hall from Loki's, and he looked as though he was about to say something about that. His mouth opened, but he clamped his lips shut and looked away before disappearing into his own suite. "Temperamental dude," Sam commented.

"He's here," Thor said, a wisp of sadness in his voice. "We're too dissimilar, I suppose, and I thought I knew him. Too much had happened for trust, but there are some aspects of him that I can rely on for the sake of our people, at least."

"It's very hopeful of you."

Thor's smile was wan when he squeezed her shoulder. "It's more work than I thought it would be to remain so. It's easier to sit and drink, try not to remember the devastation. Valkyrie and Heimdall would make better rulers than me, if I let them."

"I'm sure they'd kick your ass if you tried that," Natasha returned with a smile, patting his hand fondly. "I don't see them letting you sit idle."

"Valkyrie doesn't know me well, I can fool her some of the time. Heimdall, however... He knows just when I need his company the most."

"Good friends are important," Steve told him with a firm nod.

"Exactly. I can see you've helped Loki out of his mood, whatever it was, and I hope I can do the same for you. Stark does regret his part in what happened."

"A little too late, but it's a nice thought," Sam returned when Steve froze in place.

"You're all alive," Thor murmured, removing his hand from Natasha's shoulder. "So it's not too late. It's only too late when you're grieving."

And on that somber note, they all dispersed to their rooms within the palace. Natasha waited until it was full dark before sliding down the hall to enter Loki's room. It was dark except for a single light on near the bed, though it was bright enough to illuminate half of the room. He was stretched out on the bed, wearing only dark green pajama pants. He was reading a book with a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked up, finger holding his place in the book, and blinked in surprise.

"You're here."

"Are we going to do this dance all over again?"

He drew in a deep breath. "This isn't quite a dance, is it?"

"A few steps in one direction, a few in another, and then circling back to the start."

Loki shut the book around his fingers. "I suppose I can see why you call it a dance."

"And maybe that's fine for the public, but we know each other better than that." Natasha continued into the room, closer to his bed. The walls were too bright, too undecorated, too impersonal and not enough like him. She took the book from his hands, but couldn't read the glyphs on the page. "I think we can have a more private kind of dance, yes?" she asked, eyebrow arched at him as she put his book aside, open to the page he had been reading.

He watched her carefully, expression painfully blank. "You're free."

"And we told you we weren't leaving you just because we got here. What kind of people do you take us for?"

"Better than I deserve," he murmured.

"Yeah, sometimes they're better than I deserve, too. But then I see it as my job to protect them from all the dark things that made me who I am today." She stepped closer to him, then cradled his face in her hands. "Sometimes I almost think I deserve them." She let her fingertips run across his skin gently as she pulled away slowly, then he caught her hands, pinning them in place to his chin. "Maybe you can feel like you deserve us, too."

"There's no undoing the past."

"No, there isn't. It's making the choice, again and again and again, never wavering from that. I know how easy it is to fall off that path, fall back into the old habits, old routines, old thought patterns. It was drilled into me, much like yours probably were drilled into you."

"There was a single way to be, a given role to take and follow through," he murmured, pressing his lips to the palm of her hand. "If there was discontent or deviation, it was punished." He looked up at her, expression still fairly closed off. "I may have strained at them, tried to break them, but until I finally did, I was never seen as someone individual and separate. And why would I be, if I was taken from people considered monsters?"

"Your choices since then would determine if you are or aren't a monster." She freed one hand from his grasp to stroke his head gently. "You saved them when you didn't have to."

"To be called a savior." He leaned into her touch. "To be liked again."

"You still saved them."

"It wasn't a pure action."

"Most aren't. Thinking that you have to be purely good and saintly all the time or else you're a horrible and terrible person isn't healthy. Bad people can do good things, good people can do bad things. It's less of a value judgment than the sum of all your decisions. It's up to you to tip the balance in the direction you want it to land."

"You make it sound simple."

"We both know it isn't that easy," Natasha chided gently, starting to scratch his scalp. He all but purred at the touch.

"So what action is this? What way will it tip?"

"I'm here for myself and for you," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "Because I didn't want you here alone, and this place can feel so empty even when it's full of people."

"Yes, I feel that, too," he murmured, pulling her hand away from his mouth so he could tug her down to the bed. "I think it's always been that way."

"Because they see the surface of things and not always too far past that." Natasha rested her free hand on his bare chest, over his heart. "This is always going to be yours, and they probably won't ever really understand it. It's enough that they want to, though. That they want to know you, that they want you here, that they're willing to help you through whatever you need."

"Is that what you tell yourself with your friends when on the run?"

"I say it because it's true."

Natasha leaned in and kissed his lips. "But this isn't the dance I wanted to have with you tonight. We can save words and philosophy for the public. I wanted something private, just the two of us right now. you can brood later."

Loki squawked when she nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm not brooding."

She laughed, a husky sound that shot straight to his groin. "Of course you are. Thinking of the worst case scenario all the time, afraid you'll lose control, afraid that everything is going to fall apart as soon as you get comfortable." Natasha let her hand run down his chest to cover his groin, squeezing his cock through his pajama pants. "I know how that feels."

"I suppose you did," he said, breath catching as she began to stroke him through the fabric. "And how did you stop that feeling?"

"Just keep going. Never let them know you're afraid. Use it, turn it into something useful."

"Everything is a weapon to you," he scoffed, then reached out to grasp her by the back of her head and pull her in closer.

"Just like you," she said in the moment before they kissed.

This wasn't a gentle kiss by any means. It was fueled by frustration and passion alike, and Natasha crawled over his sprawled body without breaking the kiss. Loki's fingers were tangled in her hair, and his other hand ran down her back in a possessive motion. She slid her tongue along his bottom lip, and then into his mouth once he parted his lips.

Loki wouldn't lie there passive, and tilted his weight so that they tipped over, Natasha lying on her back across his bed. If this was to be a private dance, there had to be some of that back and forth, after all. She smiled against his mouth, running her hands along his back. Her legs were tangled in his for a moment, so she reached down to slide her hands beneath the waistband of his pajama pants. He nipped her lip, lifting his head slightly to look at her. "So eager for me, then?" he asked, lips curling into a smirk.

"You're the one that kept yourself partially unwrapped for me," she teased.

"Best return the present, hm?" he asked, shifting position so that he was kneeling over her. That freed his hands to pull her shirt up, exposing her stomach to his touch. Grinning at him, she helped unbutton the top of her jeans and shimmied a bit beneath him to push them off of her hips. "You're definitely eager for me."

Natasha swatted at his hands playfully. "Just for that, you have to take off my boots."

He rolled his eyes and then snapped his fingers, making them disappear entirely. "Now the offending things are in your suite where they belong."

"So you'll do the boots, but not the rest of our clothes?" she asked, wiggling her bare toes. He apparently had made her socks disappear as well. Neat trick, that.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, lips curling in amusement. He pulled on her shirt, lifting her a bit off his bed. Coming up to her elbows, Natasha scooted to a seated position. He dragged the shirt up and off her, mussing her hair before tossing her shirt aside. Loki let his hands run over her bared skin as she tugged his sleep pants down, freeing his growing erection.

"All right, then," she acknowledged. "Magicking everything away is a little too easy."

His reply was choked off in a gasp when she swallowed him down whole, her hands on his ass to hold him in place. She never ceased to surprise him, but at least this was a fun one.

She took him down deep, and Loki threw his head back and groaned at the sensation. He grasped the back of her head, keeping her in place. It was tempting to thrust against her, fucking her mouth without any regard other than his own pleasure, but he was able to hold himself back that much. Her head bobbed and he could feel the sensation shoot through him like lightning. He made growling, desperate noises as she continued to work him into a frenzy. Even when he made noises to have her slow down or stop, Natasha kept going until he spurted into her mouth.

Loki shivered and looked down at her satisfied smile as she looked up at him. "I'm going to have to pay you back for that one."

"Are you?" she asked, still looking pleased with herself.

"Isn't that what a dance is?" Loki said, glad that he at least didn't sound breathless. "Give and take, and steps in different directions?"

Natasha laughed and licked her lips, then ran her nails down the inside of his thighs. "That is definitely the best kind of dance."

He got off the bed and wrestled the clothing off her. There was a single-minded focus in his expression, and then he bent down as he lifted her bared hips up and off the bed. His mouth found her clit right away, licking and sucking. Natasha mewled softly, then pushed a fist against her mouth when she would have cried out.

"Let me hear you," Loki growled, a tendril of magic sliding into her. "I want to hear you, and I want you dripping when you come."

"You're cheating," she gasped, reaching down to grasp at his wrists.

Loki snorted. "You have your toys, I have magic." He grinned at her, almost feral and possessive as he looked at her. "I have you in my hands, and I'm not letting go."

"Then put your mouth back where it was and fuck me with it."

Laughing, he started to do just that. He licked and nuzzled her, the magic filling her and stroking her thighs with a warm pressure that felt almost like hands. Even after her breathing grew rapid and she was moaning in pleasure, Loki didn't let up on his rhythm. It was a constant assault on her senses, building up the pressure inside her. Natasha clenched down around the magic inside her, crying out and bucking against his mouth as he began to flick his tongue faster against her clit. She was close, trying to let him know in fractured syllables. He knew anyway, grinning when he sucked on her clit hard enough to have her come with a scream.

Natasha collapsed back onto the bed with an exhausted groan, and Loki laughed again. He lowered her hips and then slid his fingers into her slick channel, stretching her. His other hand slid up her stomach, and she caught his hand with one of hers. She couldn't do much more than make a satisfied noise, and she smiled up at him. Loki pressed her thumb against her clit, making her buck her hips and clench down around his fingers. He began to work her again in earnest, humming at the sight of her writhing beneath his hands.

After her next orgasm, he slid his fingers out of her and licked them. He maintained eye contact with her, making each lick long and slow and suggestive. "C'mon, c'mon," she panted, reaching for him without moving from her splayed position on the bed.

"Far be it for me to deny you," he murmured, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. He lined up his cock with her opening then slid home. Each stroke was long and deep, his possessive gaze still on her, watching each reaction to his touch. Natasha tried to buck up against him, increasing the speed and depth, but he kept tight hold on her hips. She would carry finger shaped bruises in the morning, and he liked the idea of marking her, of ensuring that she would always have something to remember him by.

Loki finally thrust harder and faster when he couldn't help but get caught up in the sensation of it, her snug channel slick and tight and trying to pull him deeper. He growled, bearing down and trying to keep himself from coming just yet. He didn't want this over too soon, didn't want to be so exhausted that he'd sleep through the rest of the night. This had to go on, a moment in time suspended for an eternity he could control.

But nothing really lasted forever, and he came with a shudder, spilling inside of her. He sagged against her, letting go of her hips so he could lean forward, hands on the bed keeping him from collapsing with his entire weight onto her chest. Natasha's breathing was ragged, but she hadn't come again, and he felt almost disappointed. "Couldn't quite last long enough."

She tugged on his arms so that he collapsed down onto her anyway, and wrapped her arms around him. Pressing her lips to his cheek, she didn't seem dissatisfied at all. "Next time," she purred, "we'll be a bit more prepared."

Next time. Glorious words to fall asleep to.

***

Loki was back in his usual black hair, though it wasn't quite slicked straight. He had brushed it out, so there was a measure of a wave in his locks, which had grown out to touch the top of his shoulders. He had dressed in a tailored black suit in Midgardian style, much as he had done with illusions in Stuttgart, but this time the fabric was real and Asgardian armor weave. It had been an extension of the weaving he had practiced in his hideaway, and had let magic assemble the pieces into a suit that fit him precisely. Wanda had laughed at the use, but he had simply rolled his eyes at her and explained that even Asgardian seamstresses wouldn't be able to stitch the suit together properly because of the knotted spells. That had made sense to her, and she had avidly watched the assembly process, and had offered to help with some of the other accoutrements of the suit in order to learn how to make her own.

The shirt beneath it was a pale green in the same armor weave, with spell work of his own design woven throughout. Wanda had put that together with painstaking care, and Loki was actually proud of her work. She had beamed at his praise, and he could actually feel the warmth and love in the way the fabric pressed against his skin. It was infinitely soft, softer than he could have done himself, and he had no need of an extra layer of protection. Her chaos magic had actually strengthened the knots in his weaving, giving an extra boost to the magic shielding around his body. The boots, belt, buttons and fasteners were all Asgardian make, and he wore the Odinson sigil as a pin in the lapel of the suit.

A new kind of armor for a new kind of battle, one he was uniquely suited for.

It didn't matter that there were armed guards lining the halls of the International Court of Justice. He assumed that picking the Hague in the Netherlands was a symbol for Midgardians, as it was the site of their conventions regarding human rights, declarations of war and the like. Perhaps Secretary Ross thought that it would be intimidating.

By the Tree, Loki only wanted to laugh at the grandstanding.

Bolstered by his magic, the armored clothing and the knowledge that he had someone who cared about him, several someones, in fact, Loki kept a satisfied smirk on his face.

Thaddeus Ross was in a suit, and there were other people at the conference table. Though they had name plates in front of them, they didn't matter to Loki in the slightest. The table was raised and situated lengthwise in front of him, giving him the impression that they were trying to intimidate him again. But he wasn't the fool that had been presented to Odin in chains from years ago, and he wasn't afraid of them. They were mortal men, self absorbed with their perceived power, sure that the rifles of their guards could protect them.

He brushed off the bluster that Ross started with, waving his hand in irritation as if he was going to swat a fly. Twitching his fingers, the hidden CCTV cameras broadcast everything in the room to every electronic device powered on in the world.

Loki was the god of mischief, after all, and there was no sharper blade to wield that mischief than with the truth others tried so desperately to hide.

"I am Loki of Asgard, emissary of New Asgard and the court of Thor Odinson," he announced to the table. "My position of ambassador to the rest of this world has been duly recognized in the High Court of New Asgard, and I assume accepted by the World Security Council, given that I was sent the missive to arrive here."

"You are a war criminal—"

Again, Loki interrupted Ross. "I am prepared to offer weregild for the lives that had been taken when I had arrived here. Both times, as a matter of fact." Ah, that shut him up nicely, and he smiled in a sinister way at the entire assemblage in front of him. "You see, my visits to this world in the past had been brief, and the desert town of Puente Antiguo had not shown me a populace capable of defending itself against the horrors that exist in deep space."

"So you thought to take us over?" one of the other men on the council sputtered.

"But of course," Loki said in a solicitous tone, spreading his hands wide. "I thought to be quite the benevolent ruler, bolstering the arts and sciences on this world. It seemed to be a satisfactory exchange, a handful of lives to demonstrate dominance, then ushering in a time of peace and prosperity for the people here."

"As if you could have even managed that!"

"You see, Asgard was held in high esteem among all those worlds of Yggdrasil. There are races in the universe that are militant, more so than we were even in our bloodiest of pasts, and there is one adversary in particular that would be devastating should he arrive here."

"And of course you know him," Ross sneered.

"Yes," Loki said simply. "Thanos is a name known and feared by a multitude of planets throughout the galaxy, and this world is known as a backward planet with little to no worth for anyone else. Thanos is not interested in mining resources from this planet, he's interested in death. So my bid in 2012 was to rule this planet as its savior. A few hundred dead in its capture would be better than billions."

"Billions," another man echoed.

"So you say," Ross said, shaking his head as he stood. "We have only your word on this."

"The Chitauri were foot soldiers. Expendable. Blood offerings," Loki said, each phrase punctuated by a circular and dismissive wave of his hand. "Even the mighty looking Leviathans that your armies had trouble with were little more than pawns. They wear down defenses, grind monuments to dust, and then the Black Order comes in. Their aim is to slaughter half the populace of any planet, if not more, then move on to the next world of conquest."

"For what?" the lone woman on the council cried, a look of horror on her face.

"Death," Loki said with a shrug. "Whispers tell of how he craves it, says he saves the survivors from the pangs of slow starvation. Either way, incredible numbers of death follows in his wake, and I have seen planets whose rivers literally run with blood and the bodies of the dead, where land is rendered sterile from the battles."

"All we have is your say so."

"I have been off world," Loki replied simply. "You have not. And I have no reason to lie."

"Of course you do," Ross sneered, circling the conference table with a look of barely suppressed rage on his face. "You're trying to make yourself look blameless. You want us to _thank_ you for intervening, for killing our people and sparing us from worse. It's a diversion tactic, and _I won't have it."_

"I'm being generous," Loki told him mildly, a condescending look on his face. "After all, you and your World Security Council was only too willing to send a nuclear missile to destroy New York City in 2012. Isn't it something like eleven million people living on Manhattan Island? And then the fallout covering quite the area, leaving millions more ill and the land tainted?" He stepped forward, an intense expression on his face at Ross' shock. "Oh, yes, I'm aware of what your precious council would have done to your own people."

"No one knows about that, it was a secret vote..." he murmured, shaking his head.

"Are you saying he's _right?"_ one of the councilmen cried, leaning forward against the table in shock.

"The World Security Council was dissolved when the Sokovia Accords were signed," Ross said, still shaking his head and looking back at the council members behind the conference table. It was a conciliatory tone, but it was clear that he didn't like being questioned. "So a decision like that won't be made again."

"No, you just seek to control all those with extraordinary abilities. Or cage them if you can't," Loki said, a snide and almost lethal undercurrent in his voice. "If they don't do as you say, if they don't jump to your exact command, they're enemies of the world."

Ross grit his teeth. "You're not from this planet, and ambassador or not, you have no right to question the measures we need to take to keep our people safe."

Loki laughed outright. "Do you believe that? Truly? That you're the one to make the decision for seven billion people? That your ideas are best for all the nations of this world?"

"We're the power behind the decisions," Ross said, voice low and dangerous sounding. "We have the knowledge and the expertise to handle this level of threat. We will be able to control the damage done."

"What of those with powers? Or even those that don't, and have no idea what your aims to power actually are?" Loki challenged.

"The people with those abilities have to be controlled, or else they'll run rampant and destroy everything we built."

"You don't like working with people, do you? You miss being a General," Loki observed, crossing his arms with a smug smile on his face. "Telling others what to do, being able to order the death of those that cross you..."

"Guards," Ross said, flicking his gaze to the soldiers lining the walls of the conference room.

"You anger so easily," Loki observed, that smile still stretching his lips. "None of you have even asked what the weregild would be. After all, that must be paid before we can discuss matters of security for the safety of New Asgard and this world."

"I think you're deliberately antagonizing Secretary Ross," the councilwoman observed, head tilted slightly as she took in Loki's measure. "Do you think it will make us automatically accept whatever you're willing to offer?"

"Ah," Loki said, genuine delight shifting his features. "Finally. Someone worthy of discussion."

Turning his back to Secretary Ross, knowing it would drive him further into anger, Loki strode closer to the councilwoman and gave her a formal nod befitting a dignitary. "The supplies of New Asgard are few, and not part of the weregild I would discuss. That was my folly, so it is my personal debt to pay to the people of Germany and the United States. Do you speak on their behalf, milady?"

She blinked in surprise. "That should likely be negotiated with their respective governments," she said. "They would best be able to give you a reckoning of the damage done and how you can repay it. I wouldn't want to speak for other countries."

"Wise," Loki said with a nod. "Thank you, I will do so." He turned to the rest of the council, most of whom had remained silent throughout the entire exchange so far. "I have knowledge of Thanos and the Black Order, as well as the ways they move through the galaxy. Asgard is gone, so it cannot offer protection that Thor had promised years ago. However, New Asgard now exists, and obviously as a new nation on this world would like to join in the defense. We offer the knowledge that I have, as well as the warriors that have survived Ragnarök."

"As if we'd trust anything you say," Ross huffed, turning his back to Loki.

"It is in our mutual interest to work together," Loki said in a reasonable tone. "After surviving one cataclysm, our people would not wish to witness another taking place on our new home world. Many of our survivors are the common classes, farmers, weavers, potters, merchants and the like. The Einherjar were mostly slaughtered in the cataclysm that destroyed Asgard, but a few have remained. They train those who have volunteered to join their number from our people, and are willing to train those of other nations as well."

"With what? Swords? Bows and arrows?"

"Useful skills, still," Loki replied calmly in the face of a councilman's derision. "After all, it is not the level of technology that determines whether a race is advanced or not." He gave them all an edged smile. "Energy weapons and projectile weapons of various sorts exist throughout the galaxy and even on Asgard. It was a cultural decision to return to those swords and arrows. If you kill at a distance, even in defense of your country or ideals, you lose awareness of your enemy as a distinct people. They become creatures, little better than beasts meant for slaughter by the thousands or millions."

"Which you did!" Ross thundered, turning around to point at Loki.

"In the hundreds, yes," Loki agreed, still calmly. "Because your people were little more than lambs as far as we were concerned. Our knowledge of your people had been limited, and what we had seen wasn't enough to convince us otherwise." He shrugged. "We know you now, and see the development of the cultures on this world."

"And you still think yourself superior?" Ross sneered.

"We didn't kill our own for sport," Loki said quietly. "Or sacrifice millions for a victory that would never be."

Ross flushed at the reminder of the Battle of New York, and strode forward a few steps, closing the gap between him and Loki. "You have no right to dismiss our governments."

"I don't have to. You do it yourself, playing games with nations and sacrificing the people you don't like or can't control. None of that is my doing."

"You don't know what those people are capable of."

"Oh, I'm aware of quite a few," Loki disagreed, uncrossing his arms. "I fought with several, grew to know others. They are possessed of a strength of character that all but forces them to fight against their best interest. They rushed headlong to defeat me or others that would threaten those unable to fight for themselves, with no thought to their own safety. It didn't matter what those nation borders were, if the people could repay them or not. Rather selfless of them, really. I would think that the people on this world would thank them for the effort and determine what weregild they would owe for damages incurred."

"This world runs on order and rule of law," Ross said, lip curling in derision. "Vigilantes that run around the world have to be contained."

"By whom? And which laws would they follow? There are over a hundred nations on this world, with conflicts between them for whatever disagreement of the year exists. Power exists, and the commoner has no say in the laws that are laid over them. Even in your own exalted country, it is the power of a few over the many, no matter what you say happens. Too many disenfranchised exist, so it's hardly a true democracy."

"I think," the councilwoman said, standing up to head off Ross' inevitable argument, "that we are talking of too many different topics at once." She turned to Loki and gave him a stern look. "You have a difficult history with this world, even if you wish to try to make up for it."

"I own that."

"We have the question of some kind of interplanetary figure seeking to destroy people."

"Correct."

"As well as how New Asgard will operate within our planet's current international dynamics."

Loki smiled at her. "Indeed."

"You have quite a few roles that must be dealt with, and the complex history you have with the United States is best a conversation held on their soil," she continued, eyeing Ross with that same stern gaze. Loki managed not to laugh at his scowl. "So our time today is best used to discuss the needs and role New Asgard will take."

"We offer training, security, and technical knowledge," Loki replied promptly.

"Then let us discuss those items," she said, looking out at the other councilmen. Ross left the room in a huff, but the others nodded.

He grinned and stood in the center of the room in front of the conference, chin raised and easy smile on his face. There was the thrill in his blood of the chase, a match of wits and wordplay, a bargain he could twist and turn to the benefit of New Asgard.

This was precisely the kind of battle he preferred. Not that drawing blades was unsatisfactory, but it would be too easy on this world. No, the politics and the subtle insults and back stabbing and power plays were exactly the subtle arts that leant themselves well to magic. Now that he was actually patient enough for them, he was sure it would be interesting work.

Now the bargaining could begin.

***

"Neat trick with the cameras," Sam commented, coming into the gallery where Loki was sitting and weaving cloth out of magic coated fibers. "There's all kinds of protests and demonstrations around the world. They're thinking of amending the Sokovia Accords."

Loki hummed noncommittally, continuing with the intricate knotwork. "Well," he said finally, looking up as he pulled a thread through, "if they didn't want the populace to be outraged, they would have hidden their secrets better."

Sam snorted. "So. Diplomat." He smiled when Loki nodded stiffly. "It suits you, I think."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Manipulation's more your thing, right? Well, that's what diplomacy is. Convincing other people to agree with you and your interests."

"You make it sound so nefarious."

"Can be," Sam acknowledged.

"I am, as you say, a new man at this juncture. Being nefarious would rather defeat that purpose, and put me at odds with the people of this world."

"Thor can smooth things over, I think. Heimdall and Valkyrie are pretty cool." Sam watched Loki finish another few careful knots in the fabric, not looking up or replying. "Are you hiding from Steve and Natasha?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you care what they think," Sam told him flatly. "And you're worried that they'll be disappointed in how you handled that."

Loki finished the knot and looked up, pressing the fabric into his lap. "That was not the manner of thought I had. But you think they are."

"I think they're waiting for you to get your moody ass out there in the grand hall to really start the celebration," Sam said, pointing behind him. "Thor's not going to start the feast without you, so we're all waiting on you."

The look of wonder and surprise on Loki's face would have been heartbreaking if Sam hadn't been looking for it. "I suppose I can finish this later."

"What's it going to be?"

"It's... actually for you," Loki said finally. "Bracers." At Sam's surprise, he stood and wrapped the half finished piece of fabric around one of Sam's forearms. "This way, there's added strength to grab hold of others when you fly."

"Thank you," Sam murmured, clasping Loki's hand under his. "I really appreciate that, man."

"It wouldn't do for an ally of New Asgard to fall in battle."

"Or, like, _ever,"_ Sam said, pulling Loki in for a hug while he wasn't suspecting it. "C'mon now, I know Natasha is saving at least two dances for you."

"Only two?" he asked, sounding a bit put out.

"She might've said the others were not for the public."

When he understood the reference, Loki lit up and started laughing. "In that case, I look forward to it," he said. He tossed the piece of fabric into the air and then hand waved it into a private pocket dimension to work on later.

"Neat trick, that," Sam remarked with an admiring nod. "Wanda hasn't quite got the hang of it yet, but she's still working on it."

"It's all a matter of practice."

"Yeah, everything worthwhile is." Sam nodded toward the grand ballroom where the other Asgardian and Scandinavian guests were milling about and waiting. "Ready to put on a show for all the dignitaries?"

Loki grinned at him. "Absolutely."

The End


End file.
